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punchdrunkdoc · 6 months

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Part 3, Chapter 3

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 (maybe 4??) parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

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PART 3

Chapter 3

The next morning, Matt smiled as he walked passed the florist on his way to work, the rich, heady scent of roses filling the air.

Yesterday, that fragrant reminder of the upcoming romantic celebration had only added to his bad mood - the bad mood caused by a week spent worrying about Calina and her strange phone call, and a month and a half spent missing her. The fact that Valentine’s Day was approaching meant he was bitterly reminded of what was taken from them, and what other couple’s took for granted - the chance to be with each other.

But today, he was actually feeling…optimistic.

Calina may have been a few days early, but she’d given him the perfect Valentine’s gift:

Hope.

Her brief visit last night had spurned him out of his morose despondency. It was the catalyst he’d needed to realise that it was time to stop dwelling on the negatives and obsessing over what they’d lost.

Instead, it was time to focus on the positives. They were both still alive. Still healthy. And still fighting for each other. Distance didn’t matter. Being temporarily separated didn’t matter. They loved each other. They would have the rest of their lives together. A few months apart was nothing compared to the years to come.

Matt had been dealt some crap hands throughout his life - losing his sight. Losing his father. Losing again and again. But he’d always found a reason to stay in the game. To accept the defeats and find the will to carry on playing.

This was no different.

He just had to have faith that God’s plan would reveal itself.

And this morning, he felt like he was finally getting a glimpse of the tapestry. He was finally seeing the beauty in the chaos. This separation would only strengthen them as a couple. It would serve to reinforce their bond, and ensure that they never took each other - or their happiness together - for granted.

“You seem…better,” Karen commented when Matt reached the office.

Matt shrugged. “I feel better.”

“That’s good.” She gifted him with a wide smile, and Foggy patted him on the shoulder.

It made Matt realise how much his foul mood had been impacting his friends and their workplace. “I’m sorry, guys,” he said. “For being such a miserable bastard the last couple of months.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘miserable bastard’,” Foggy replied. “That’s a bit harsh. ‘Forlorn asshole’, maybe. Or ‘wretched son of a bitch’ would be more accurate.”

Matt laughed. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’ll try to be more upbeat from now on.”

“What brought on this sudden change in attitude?” Foggy asked.

Matt couldn’t help his smile. “I saw Calina last night.”

“So you got laid! That explains everything!”

Karen slapped Foggy’s chest with the back of her hand. “God, Foggy.”

Matt just laughed. “No, it was just a quick visit. But it helped give me some perspective. It’s like you said, Fog - this is just a long distance relationship. It won’t last forever…and other couples go through similar experiences all the time.”

“Exactly, man. Astronauts.”

Matt smiled. “Yeah. Astronauts.”

“She’s Neil Armstrong, and you’re the little lady waiting back on earth.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “Something like that.”

“Okay,” Foggy said, rubbing his hands together. “Well, since you’re in such a good mood, you can take point on the meeting with the new nightmare client, while I finish off the brief for the Chisholm case.”

“Nightmare client?” Matt asked.

“Yeah, a tenant dispute case. They’re arriving at 10.”

“Fine,” Matt agreed. Liaising with a difficult client was the least he could do to make up for his less than stellar performance the last couple of months. “But I have something to do first.” He held up the USB drive that Calina had slipped to him last night.

“What’s that?” Karen asked.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

Matt booted up his computer and plugged in the device. It contained a single large document which he printed off in braille and started scanning through. At first there was just a list of chemicals - the results of the analysis by the Widow scientist - but then Calina added some context.

And it changed everything.

“Guys?” he called out. “You gotta hear this.”

“What is it?” Karen said, taking a seat on the other side of his desk. Foggy joined them a moment later and leaned against the door frame.

“Calina found something.” Matt spun his monitor around to show the document on the screen. “Apparently, one of the main ingredients of the fear pheromone is something called Arsonium bromide. Its a chemical that environmental groups have been calling for greater regulation on, because it’s disposal has been linked to soil contamination which is affecting agriculture yields across the country. Those environmental groups were successful in convincing a prominent politician to lobby their cause to the EPA last year.”

“Okay,” Karen said slowly. “How does this help us?”

“That prominent politician was Governor Andrew Benson.”

“The guy Calina was supposed to assassinate?”

“Yes.” Matt leaned forward as he laid out Calina’s theory. “Two days after the failed assassination, Benson suddenly, and without warning, withdrew his petition to the EPA, and walked back all his previous objections to the chemical.”

“Somebody got to him,” Karen added. “Somebody with a vested interest in the use of Arsonium bromide.”

“Exactly. With Benson’s support, the environmental groups were gaining traction in their fight. So someone tried to take Benson out. And when that failed, they likely played off the assassination attempt as a warning.”

“Do as we say, or next time it’ll be for real,” Foggy guessed. “Which means whoever is behind the manufacture of the fear pheromone-”

“Is the same person who arranged for Calina to be reactivated,” Karen finished.

“It’s all connected,” Matt said. “If we find out who created the pheromone, we find out who ordered Calina’s mind control. And vice versa - if we can find out who paid to have their very own Widow assassin, we find our pheromone guy.”

“Holy shit,” Karen whispered, tilting the monitor so she could read through the information on the screen.

“I take it the Widows are concentrating on finding out who bought Calina’s ‘services’, for want of a better term?” Foggy asked, reading the screen over Karen’s shoulder.

“As much as they can - but they’re more focussed on hunting down Volkov. He’s the bigger threat to them right now. Which means we’ll be doing them a favour if we find this information first.”

“So where do we begin?” Foggy asked.

“I say we concentrate on researching this chemical. Where its manufactured, who buys it, and how.”

“I’ll start today,” Karen answered, scribbling in her notebook.

“What does this mean?” Foggy said, pointing to something on Matt’s screen.

“Which part?” Matt asked, shuffling through his print outs.

“The last sentence. It says, ‘I hope this helps, shereen-am.’ What is ‘shereen-am’?”

Matt tried to control his reaction. “It’s nothing. Just an inside joke.”

It wasn’t nothing. And it wasn’t a joke. But it was something private, just between Matt and Calina. He’d googled the phrase before calling the others into his office and found that it was a Persian term of endearment. Roughly translated from Farsi into English it meant ‘Honey’.

By using that term, Calina was reminding him of Christmas Day, when she’d whispered all those terms of endearment into his ear as they’d made love on the couch.

She was reminding him of a happier time, to help get him through the dark and lonely days to come.

Matt smiled as he skimmed his fingers over that word again: Shereen-am.

Calina’s visit last night had given him hope. The information on the USB had given him a lead. And the affectionate nickname on the end of her message had given him a glimpse of how things would be between them in the future.

It was a promise, of better times ahead.

———

“And then he grabbed her and kissed her!”

“It was like something out of a movie - the way he dipped her back, and with the two of them bathed in the moonlight with the stars twinkling overhead…”

Calina groaned and sank into her chair as Katya and Inessa gushed to the other Widows about Matt’s antics on the boat last night. The three of them had arrived back at the mansion at dawn, and after a brief nap, they were now debriefing the rest of the team.

But it had gotten a little side-tracked.

“‘Bathed in the moonlight’?” Sofia repeated. “Come on, Inessa, I think you’ve been reading too many of those romance novels.”

“But that’s exactly what it was like!” the younger Widow protested. “It was the most romantic, swoon-worthy thing I’ve ever seen!”

“That’s not really saying much, given the way we were raised,” Viktoria commented.

Inessa rolled her eyes, and opened her mouth to respond but Anya cut her off. “Enough about Calina’s love life. Did you find the warehouse?”

Calina sat up again. “Yes, enough about me. Tell them what you found.”

Anya had found mention on Ranieri’s laptop of a recent real estate transaction. Which wasn’t unusual in itself - the Ranieri family seemed to prioritise property and commercial investments over gambling on the stock market. But while the rest of Salvatore’s portfolio made sense for a party guy in his late twenties - night clubs, bars, trendy apartments in major cities across the world - a former wholesale carpet warehouse in an industrial estate in New Jersey did not.

So Katya and Inessa had been tasked with scoping it out.

Katya tossed a USB stick to Anya. “Photographs and schematics as requested. The place was deserted - no personnel on the grounds - but it was spotless, with signs of a recent professional clean. It’s definitely being prepped for something.”

“Like a lab to manufacture the mind control serum,” Sofia guessed.

“Possibly,” Yelena interjected. “But we can’t get ahead of ourselves. We need more evidence. We need to be sure before we make any moves.”

“Agreed,” Anya chimed in.

“Which is why we planted a few cameras,” Inessa said with a cocky grin. “And several bugs. We’ll know soon enough what the plan is for that building.”

“Good,” Yelena responded. She looked around the room at the rest of the Widows. And a rare smile graced her face. “I know I just told you all to be cautious…but I have a good feeling about this. I think this is how we get Volkov. I think this will all be over soon.”

Several of the women whooped and cheered in response - a sign that Calina wasn’t the only one who was looking forward to this confinement ending.

And it also proved to Calina how much the Widows had come out of their shells over the last few months. They laughed more readily now. They expressed their emotions without prompting. Conversations flowed instead of stuttered, and there was an easy camaraderie between everyone.

The stilted, angry, and bitter atmosphere that often pervaded the base in South Carolina didn’t exist here in Maine. And Calina knew it had nothing to do with the change in scenery - the weather outside the mansion was dark and grey and wet these days, holding little of the sunny, vibrant beauty of Charleston.

Time was the reason.

They’d been given time to start the healing process. To learn about themselves and the world around them. Time to find their little moments of joy.

Joy that even Volkov couldn’t take away. If anything, the looming threat that he posed had the opposite effect - as if the Widows were defiantly enjoying themselves even more to spite him and his attempts to force them back into an emotionless, violent existence.

Calina would be sorry to leave this place when the time came. She no longer felt the need to escape this environment. Not like in the beginning, when she’d first been freed. Back then, she’d felt suffocated by all the pain and rage around her. She’d wanted to strike out on her own and discover who she was away from that toxic environment.

But everything was different now. Now she would miss living here with all her sisters.

Though not as much as she missed Matt.

Seeing him last night had been a rollercoaster ride. She’d swung from the lowest low of wanting to escape his presence, to the highest high from that kiss. Because as much as it made Calina cringe, Inessa’s description had been spot-on - it had been the most wonderful, romantic, swoon-worthy gesture in the history of the world.

But on the journey back to Maine, the high had worn off. And all her doubts and fears - and all the guilt - had come flooding back.

And all of it boiled down to one thing - she didn’t feel worthy of him.

She didn’t feel worthy of the kind of man who would fly a hundred feet through the air just to kiss her. She didn’t feel worthy of a man as amazing and kind and smart as Matt. A man who fiercely protected the strangers in his city, and could touch her with such reverent tenderness.

The kiss had made her forget all that. It had short-circuited her brain and over-rode all her negative emotions, until the only thing left was passion. She’d given in to the moment, to the feel of being in Matt’s arms again.

Which she’d known would happen. It was the reason she’d chosen that cramped, awkward crane jib as their meeting point in the first place. She’d known that if they’d met in his apartment, or on the pier - or anywhere else out in the open - he would have taken her in his arms and she would have been powerless to resist. She would have accepted his embrace and returned his kiss all the while feeling undeserving of him.

So she’d chosen that metal cage instead, as a way to deny herself.

As a punishment.

But he’d gotten around her little ploy. He’d kissed the life out of her on that boat deck, and everything else had faded away. How guilty she felt about Italy. How scared she was that if he truly knew her and everything she’d done as a Widow that he’d hate her.

How terrified she was that they were too good to be true.

“Calina!”

Calina lifted her head at the sound of her name. The other widows were all staring at her. “Huh?” she asked.

“You spaced out there,” Inessa explained.

“Sorry. Just tired,” she lied. “I’m going to head back to bed.”

The chorus of ‘Byes’ and ‘Sleep wells’ from her sisters followed Calina up the stairs, but she was already lost in thought again.

She didn’t know what to do about Matt and all these doubts she was having.

Did she share them with him? Admit her fears about not being worthy of his love? Could she even explain them without having to divulge all the dirty secrets of her past? Wouldn’t that just bring about the end of their relationship and defeat the purpose of the whole ‘sharing’ thing?

Calina fell forward onto her bed and smothered her frustrated groan with her pillow. Then she flipped onto her back and stared up at the ceiling as she contemplated the alternative scenario: being with Matt, with this constant pit of worry in her stomach. Revelling in his affection and his love whilst always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

A tear leaked from the corner of Calina’s eye as she wrestled with all of these unfamiliar emotions. A tiny part of her longed for the days of being an unfeeling automaton…but she quickly squashed that treacherous notion.

This was better.

Despite all the uncertainty and pain and confusion, dealing with these emotions was far better than living as a shell of a human being under the Red Room’s control.

“Hey, you okay?”

Calina hastily wiped away the tear as Katya entered their room. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Liar,” Katya teased, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “You’ve not been okay since Italy. Did something else happen there?”

Calina levered herself up to rest against the headboard. “What do you mean?”

“Well, when you debriefed us after the mission you said Ranieri just got a bit handsy. Did something…more…happen that night? You can tell me.”

Calina shook her head. “No, nothing else happened.”

“So what is it? What’s going on with you?”

Calina’s first instinct was to lie again. To keep everything to herself. It was the way she was raised - the way they all had been. Even before the mind control serum took away their emotions they were trained to hide them. To bury their sadness and their loneliness and their pain. To never confide in anyone how they were feeling.

It was a difficult habit to break, but Calina was determined to tear away this next layer of Red Room conditioning. So she took a deep breath and told Katya everything. How she’d called Matt before the party in Italy. How having Ranieri’s hands on her felt. And how it was all messing with her head. “I know intellectually that nothing really happened,” she explained. “It was just a few unwanted gropes and a kiss on the neck - I’ve been through much worse on missions like that - but I just feel so…guilty. I keep imagining if it was Matt in that situation, and he’d let some other woman touch him. I would hate it. Which means I can’t tell him, because then he’d hate me.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Katya interjected. “If you just explain to him that it was a mission and you were playing a role-”

“But that would just open up this whole can of worms. About all the other roles I’ve played in the past, and the things I’ve done-”

“While under mind control, Calina.”

“Again, I know that intellectually…but don’t you still feel guilty about everything you did while under the serum?”

Katya smiled. “I feel guilty for stabbing you in Seoul.”

Calina rolled her eyes. “I’m being serious. We all did some really messed up shit for Dreykov. Doesn’t that…stick with you at all?”

Katya looked down as she picked at a loose thread in the bedspread. “Occasionally. Usually at night - my dreams are sometimes…not fun.”

Calina placed her hand over Katya’s remembering what it was like when she first arrived in New York - the endless nights spent pacing the rooftop, unable to sleep. “I’m sorry.”

Katya shrugged. “It’s fine. They’re just memories. The important thing is that I don’t blame myself for it. And you’re not to blame either. We were kids when we were brainwashed, and then we were forced against our will to commit all those acts.”

“But what about now? We’re acting on our own free will, and we’re still murdering and stealing-”

“Yes, to stop the bad guys!” Katya protested. “We’re on the side of good now. And we have the rest of our lives to be on that good side, and to make up for everything we’ve done”

“Can we, though? Can we possibly balance a ledger with so much red in it?”

“Now you sound like Natasha. And look what she’s accomplished. She’s an Avenger. Little girls all over the world want to be like her, because she’s a hero. We can be like that too.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever feel like a hero. Matt’s a hero, and he-”

It was Katya’s turn to roll her eyes. “You know I like Matt, but he’s not exactly squeaky-clean. He’s a vigilante - he breaks the law every night.”

“It’s different. He has a moral code. One I’ve violated again and again. If he ever found out the truth about me, he’d hate me.”

Katya studied her for a few moments, a frown marring her face. “Calina, what is the ‘truth’ about you?”

Calina swallowed harshly. When she finally answered, her voice was small and shaky. “That I’m not a good person.”

Katya reared back. “That’s ridiculous! You were brainwashed and under mind control-”

“I’m not talking about that! Since leaving the Red Room, I’ve abandoned my sisters, I’ve lied to everyone I’ve met, I’ve killed people, and I- I cheated on my boyfriend!”

“You didn’t cheat!”

“What would you call it?”

“I call it necessary! We’re fighting a war here, Calina. And wars are messy, and they involve sacrifice and difficult decisions. Killing the men who came after you, lying to protect your identity and going undercover to steal from Ranieri were difficult decisions, but necessary.”

“But-”

“I’m not finished!”

Calina snapped her mouth closed. She’d never seen Katya like this - so agitated and…loud. She’d always been one of the quieter, more rational Widows.

“As to your other ‘sin’,” Katya continued. “You did not abandon us. You came to save me in Korea - you risked your life to save me. That’s not abandonment. And the other widows told me what you were like after you were freed - they could all see you were struggling. Moving to New York was another necessary decision. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re a good person. You were never cut out for this kind of life. Even as kids we realised that you were too sweet and sensitive. And the Red Room persisted in trying to beat that out of you, but they never could. Despite what you’ve been through and what you were forced to do, you’re still that same sweet, sensitive, good person. It’s why you’re feeling all of this so much more than the rest of us. And while we all appreciate your help with taking down Volkov, if you want to leave again, not one person would blame you.”

She bumped her shoulder against Calina’s. “We love you, Calina. You are worthy of love. You just need to convince yourself of that.”

————–

So do we think Katya got through to Calina? Does she believe now that she's worthy of Matt?

Read chapter 4 to find out...

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @yanna-banana @chezagnes @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

#daredevil #daredevil fic #tabula rasa #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock #daredevil x original female character #marvel's daredevil #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fandom #matt murdock x oc

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murdererofthumbs · 1 year

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So today’s episode was a wild emotional rollercoaster for Roman girlies. I honestly think that in order for me to comprehend every episode I need to watch it twice, because first watch is always an over-anxious mess, when I just want to find out what happens, and then I can actually start thinking properly when stress levels are down to normal.

But I do have some thoughts based on both the episode and what people have been saying so far:

1) First, I knew since previous episode that although Kendall was full of shit when he said he will include Shiv in everything, Roman was absolutely serious about that. And he proved it! Literally tried to run every decision by her (and that makes me so happy, because he just wants his siblings to be together and work together and be a fucking family). But on the other hand… We are all aware that Shiv will not take that under consideration, right? As far as she is aware, her brothers fucked her over with their CEO-COO positions and that is enough for her to get vindictive and look for blood. So even though I’m happy that Roman remained true to his word, I also think that Shiv will stab him in the back anyway. Because she IS the most similar to Logan (don’t come at me, I love Shiv, but these are just the facts - if push comes to shove she will leak the whole Gerri-Roman dick incident and bury her brother if it means asserting her position).

2) I think it’s becoming more and more clear that Roman is heading towards some pretty dark place (I don’t think he will be able to hold his delusions for much longer, he is falling apart at the seams and there doesn’t seem to be anything that could fill out the gaping holes inside of him). The fact that each episode of Succession is supposed to be, what, one-two days (it has to be two days in this episode at least), means that since Logan’s death none of them had any breather from the grief and pain that this loss has caused them. But unlike Kendall and Shiv who both in their own ways acknowledged Logan’s passing and made semi (and I mean very semi)-peace with it, Roman is not even near that stage. He is still very much glorifying his dad (that trauma bond is holding very strong in there), and I feel like he might also not be sleeping. You know, sleep? The time when your subconscious mind roams free and brings all your possibly repressed thoughts on the forefront of your mind? Yeah, my bet is on pretty strong sleep deprivation here. Add some extremely palpable anxiety and trying to keep everything together and you have a nice ticking bomb ready to implode at any given moment (and he kinda did implode there with Matsson but it was still very much coated in delusions and projections of his own guilt).

Also - the pills. I know some girlies last week were like “oh guys chill, it’s just advil”, but having them flashed two episodes in the row? Nah, Succession writers don’t seem like the type to provide insignificant shots, and in combination with his nervous exterior, Roman taking some sort of pills makes perfect sense. I don’t know where this will lead to, but I’m trying not to be overwhelmed by negative thoughts (you guys really need to stop with Roman-suicide predictions, just…don’t).

3) Last thing is that as far as we are aware, Roman still doesn’t know that Kendall was the one behind leaking negative stuff about Logan to the media. I feel like they didn’t even get to the good (bad) stuff yet. And can you imagine what will happen then, considering how fucking unstable Roman was in this episode (without all that bullshit adding to his mental state)? Yeah, I don’t wang to imagine, but it will be really fucking bad. My prediction and that might be a stretch, but for some reason I feel like it will all culminate during Logan’s funeral (which I assume will be one of the episodes, considering Connor’s phone call and him sending Roman pics of their dead dad (!!!)). Both the shit about Logan and Roman’s downfall will probably come crushing down at the most difficult moment, where he will actually have to acknowledge that Logan is not only dead, but also very much a piece of shit and abuser.

Anywho, this show is a slaughterhouse and I both love it (derogatory) and hate it (affectionate).

#roman roy #succession #succession hbo #i have both overwhelming amount of thoughts about this episode #but also no thoughts at all #I didn’t even have the mental capacity to get jnto other characters yet #but I am Roman girlie first and foremost and he was a mess this episode so I need to spotlight him first #others will have to wait hntil I gather all my brain cells #kendall roy #shiv roy #connor roy #succession spoilers #succession 04x05

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sweetdreamsofgelato · 2 years

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Midsummer Misadventures: Chapter 7

(Henry pic credit. The rest are Google.)

[CH 1] [CH 2] [CH 3] [CH 4] [CH 5] [CH 6] [CH 7]

Pairing: Henry x Female!Reader (you)

Word count: 4942

Warnings: RPF; Enemies to Lovers. Slow Burn Smut (not yet). Snark. So much snark. Olympic-level bickering. Adult language and themes, etc. Somewhat arrogant Alpha-male Henry because I have questionable taste in men. Plot holes and predictability abound.

Disclaimer: Henry is probably nothing like this IRL. This is 100% fiction. Don’t take it seriously and don’t come at me with hate.

Summary: Henry hires you as his property solicitor and you go on a misadventure in Scotland.

A/N:

Happy Bank Holiday! Enjoy an unexpected update because my chapter was once again getting too long and had to be split. The good news is that means the next chapter is already half done. 😂

I hope you all enjoy ❤️

Unbeta-ed. All mistakes are my own.

Reposting my works on other sites or platforms is prohibited. Reblogs, likes, and comments are, as always, greatly appreciated.

The dress proved as much difficult to put on alone as it looked ridiculous, and just as you were about to find something with which set the horrid thing alight, Annie serendipitously appeared to tidy your room and volunteered to assist.

More’s the pity, because the thought of using it for kindling had been the one bright spot of your morning.

Henry had casually offered to help too, loftily prattling on about his expertise in corsetry. Completely overblown, you suspected, and likely had more to do with taking them off than tying them up (you had seen The Tudors, under acute duress at the time). The thought alone sent your mind on a dangerous spiral, and you swiftly ejected him from the room upon the pain of excruciating death.

After your body’s earlier shenanigans, you didn’t want his hands anywhere near you.

Much hemming and hawing, three corset lace-tightenings and loosenings, and a shameful amount of stalling later, Annie forced you through the doorway—literally and figuratively. You let out an audible oof when your skirts got caught in the frame. Upon reaching the end of the landing, you wiggled your toes in your rebellious flats and contemplated (with newly-found, sizable respect for the women of yesteryear) the best way to descend without breaking your neck. Your choice in footwear may not abide by the prescribed costumery, but at least you wouldn’t risk needing to be rushed to the nearest hospital at the slightest stumble.

Now, if said hospital was next to the airport, then you’d seriously reconsider the hideous heels you left back in the room.

A familiar whoop of laughter and a high-pitched excited titter floated up from the ground floor and broke the rather gruesome reverie. It wasn’t until you reached the very last flight of stairs that you spied Henry. His back was to you as he waved to someone just out of sight. He idly reclined back, one elbow propped atop the railing.

The step under your foot creaked.

He turned.

Your breath caught.

He smirked.

The glimpse you’d gotten of the costume earlier had been extremely misleading, or perhaps, now it was simply to full effect because it was fitted to his body rather than being thrown over the back of the furniture.

This was no tin can suit of armour. There was certainly enough well-placed shiny pomp and circumstance to give it a sense of knightly authenticity, but there was also something substantially tactile about it. A dark and dangerous utility favoured over princely show. Henry stood straight, squared his impossibly broad shoulders, and looked as if he was plucked straight out of Arthurian legend. Even his mannerisms were less languid insouciance and more measured lethality.

His was not just some backwoods community theatre costume like you’d thought. There was a definite whiff of quality about it, and it suited him to a ridiculous degree. Kudos to Caroline for sourcing something so infuriatingly befitting Big Lad Henry. Too bad that enthusiasm hadn’t extended to Arts and Crafts hour you were forced to wear, though Henry had always been a more motivating presence.

Henry watched the rest of your wobbly descent with something that vacillated between cautious curiosity and thinly-veiled amusement. When you reached the bottom step, he bent with a grandiose bow and raised one hand palm up.

“My lady.”

An odd shiver ran all the way to your toes.

“You look radiant,” he added, choking back barely restrained laughter.

“You’re enjoying this far too much.”

The retort hadn’t come out nearly as acrimonious as you would’ve hoped and verged far too close to stunned and breathy for comfort. Henry looked up and his smile was nothing short of devastating. Your mind suddenly felt perilously woolly, and for the first time, you held genuine sympathy for anyone caught in the crosshairs of his (apparently) not-so-alleged charm. It was becoming clearer why he always seemed to get his way.

Which irritated all the same. Finding your head, you dodged his proffered hand, lifted your voluminous skirts and flounced past, all on the silent hope that you didn’t trip on the excess of lace trimming. There was something steadying in the simmer of annoyance. A calming sense of equilibrium. Balance restored to the universe.

“I am more than entitled, given the circumstances,” he said from behind you.

“To indulge in a bit of schadenfreude?”

He fell into step. “Just desserts, Cupcake. Just desserts.”

You stopped short and the pendulous weight of the skirts nearly toppled you. You held your arms out to regain your balance, one finger raised for emphasis. “Do not call me that.”

“Your words.” His eyes made a leisurely pass from head to hem and with it came an irrepressible urge to squirm. “And not wholly inaccurate.”

You immediately pulled a face far beneath your years; he responded in kind. Your parents would be so proud.

Henry was definitely enjoying this.

In a horrifying sort of way, so were you.

Rather than risk unearthing any more new weaknesses, you put Henry safely in your peripheral vision and hastened through into the main pub. It was positively hivelike, buzzing with excited energy but still with distinct synchronicity of purpose. A few familiar faces mingled amongst strangers who you suspected were local volunteers. Some bustled about, boxes bursting with ribbons, streamers, and decorations in hand. Others sat and chatted animatedly whilst putting the finishing touches on their projects or braiding fresh summer flowers into garlands and wreaths. The air was so heavily perfumed that it bordered on overwhelming. Beyond the tables lain with jugs of lemonade, half-drunk pints, and light refreshments was Gavin. He was stationed, pail and rag in hand, by the pub’s rather impressive wall of antique windows, evidently on cleaning duty and looking quite discontent for it.

You felt a fleeting pang of sympathy and asked in passing if he wished to trade places. One startled look at your unfortunate get-up and he swiftly resumed wiping the wavy glass with renewed vigour.

No one shall accuse you of being uncharitable.

Jack was nowhere to be found, to your eternal gratitude, as your dignity was already on the ropes and you hadn’t even made it to the stage. Some curious eyes followed you on the way to the back exit, though most appeared too preoccupied with their preparations to do anything other than give you a nod or abbreviated greeting before moving on. Henry hovered closely, likely to ensure you didn’t try to make a run for it (as if you could in skirts this wide) but, nonetheless, you were relieved he was large enough to break lines of sight.

To your face, anyway. There was absolutely no hiding the dress.

Out the back door, you were greeted by another brilliantly sunny day. The striking view from the terrace revealed the lush fields now studded with the half-assembled beginnings of a sprawling maze of colourful marquees. It was pushing noontime, and given that the same fields had been completely empty the previous evening, the festival crew must have started in the early hours to be this far along.

The gentle breeze tickled your cheeks as you lifted a hand to shade your eyes. Beyond the tangle of small marquees, you spotted two fenced pitches in the distance. Off to the side were piles of smoothed poles, mounds of coiled rope, and other suspiciously sporty oddments.

Highland games. Technically, Muirford wasn’t in the Highlands, but what better than something quintessentially Scottish to attract tourists, especially those less inclined to venture further north during high midge season.

Your eyes moved beyond the pitches to another higher, far more prominent marquee. Only the top was visible, but if you hazard a guess, that was the entertainment stage.

“This way,” said Henry as he led you down the steps.

Evidently, the festival was a much bigger deal and more far-reaching than you’d originally anticipated. The conversation you’d had with Gavin when you first arrived came to mind: that midsummer celebrations were an annual tradition and brought in visitors from many of the surrounding villages, but there seemed to be a heavy emphasis on attracting tourists as well, and now with the undeniable draw of Henry’s presence…

You swallowed thickly and wiped your damp palms over your skirts, knowing full well that the sweat was only halfway caused by the heavy costume.

There was a sharp thwack against your side, dragging you back into the moment. You grimaced and looked down; the sheathed stage sword attached to Henry’s thick leather belt smacked against your well-padded side with each step, like a slow and steady prod.

The fact that he got a sword and you got eighteen layers of glittery fluff was an egregious affront.

You shuffled out of range of the sword and your thoughts and kept pace with Henry. He wove in and out of lanes with confidence that ascribed some knowledge of where to go and you briefly wondered if he’d done some reconnaissance this morning. That, in turn, ultimately made you also wonder where he spent of his evening. In spite of his generally conspicuous existence, he was proving quite adept at skulking off, and you were beginning to wonder where he disappeared.

Tch, banish the thought. Curiosity certainly never did the cat any favours.

Your interest was diverted by stall after stall dedicated to all manner of offerings, with signage boasting traditional local delicacies and modern speciality street food, both of which you absolutely planned to partake in when you weren’t being publicly humiliated. When you took a fork in the path, Henry’s hand caught your lower back. It was merely to redirect you in the right direction, but the touch branded you through the thick corseted bodice.

Your face and neck immediately warmed, and it had nothing to do with the bright midday sun.

Henry’s hand quickly disappeared from your person, the disappointment from the loss of its warmth on your skin was downright startling. The breeze kicked up. It whipped through your many layers, whirling upward to cool your cheeks. It caught Henry’s hair and gave it a ruffle; he closed his eyes and breathed in, serenely savouring the freshness, and you hastened to look away.

Down another offshoot was a central circle, the circumference of which was reserved for local artisans who carefully prepared their booths. You passed set-ups for blown glass trinkets, hand-knitted wool jumpers and mufflers, soaps and candles, carved wooden children’s toys and various curios. You peered around in hopes of spotting your new favourite Fraser jam when you heard it, pealing through the air like a death knell:

“WHERE ARE MY UNICORNS?”

You blanched. The urge to bolt edged on violent.

“Don’t even think about it.” Henry caught you by the shoulders and spun you around, and in the process, smooshed the over-puffed sleeves into your face. You swatted at his hands as he not-so-gently encouraged you forward. When you broke through the last line of marquees and the rogue tuille, the raised stage came into full view.

It was chaos worthy of Accidental Renaissance.

Stagehands rushed hither and thither, organising props and rudimentary scene settings in front of the painted fairytale backdrop whilst dodging others who futilely attempted to wrangle a gaggle of children into their costumes. Two youngsters with rugby helmets far too big for their heads were mid-combat, the dull thudding of their wooden swords and shields coming together in a frenetic rhythm, and some poor helper trying to break up the scuffle was knee-capped for their effort. At opposite ends of the stage, two men upon wobbling ladders struggled to hang a heavy crimson curtain; they shouted after a group of breakaway youths (suspected source of the wobbling) who clambered en masse after a horde of sheep hell-bent on escaping their clutches.

Relatable and oddly mesmerising.

It was a proper scrabble. The children swarmed—strappy, glittering unicorn horns held aloft the fray—and dove after their quarry, but the sheep proved quicker. The terrorised animals broke ranks and scattered, much to the delight of their pursuers, who squealed excitedly as they chased the bleating sheep—exit stage right, down the steps, and out into the field.

A few harried helpers clutching armfuls of costumery hurried after them.

You stared, mouth agape, but your attention snapped to by the piercing screech of a megaphone:

“Bout time ye showed up.”

You looked down.

A miniature Caroline stood before you. Far too young to be her daughter—couldn’t be past the latter half of primary school, but the familial resemblance was plain as day. Right down to the ruthless glint in her eye.

“Who are you?” you asked, taking a wary step back.

The lass flicked her dark plaited hair over her shoulders, adjusted the aviators on her nose, and lifted the megaphone to her mouth. As imperiously as a child could, she answered, “Yer director.”

You shot Henry a hard-pressed look that plainly read This is a joke, right?

He returned your unspoken question with a lazy shrug.

“Och, guid, yer here!”

The voice came from behind and you made a startled spin. It was apparent that there was little chance you’d end the day without suffering whiplash.

“Dinna let this wee one give ye a fright. She’s harmless. G’on, Gracie.” Caroline shooed the girl toward the chaos on stage and then turned and smiled between you and Henry. “I’ll introduce ye tae awbody. Juist so ye ken, given the circumstances, we’v made some changes tae the performance.”

You must’ve looked peaky because Caroline immediately bustled to your side to offer reassurance in the form of incessantly patting your hand. “Ye must be a ball of nerves, but ye look — er lovely. Henry took an age tae pick a dress but he wis absolutely right that it’d fit perfectly.”

“You picked this?” The question definitely sounded as accusatory as intended.

Before Henry had a chance to plead his case, Caroline cut in. “Aye, he took great care in chuisin it. Insisted the original dress wouldnae fit. I dinna ken yer size, but wha better to than yer man.”

Caroline smiled broadly in that Cheshire way of hers and proceeded toward the stage, carrying on completely unaware of the fact that you’d fallen back with Henry and were three seconds from ripping off one of your many ribbons and throttling the male lead.

You waited for Caroline to get just out of earshot and hissed, “You are unbelievable. I suppose you chose your own costume then?”

“Oh, this old thing?” Henry motioned innocently toward himself. “Called in a favour with a costumier in Edinburgh. Worked with them a few years ago and they had this collecting dust in storage so I drove there last night to borrow it.”

That explains the realistic appeal and impeccable fit. For the sake of remaining functional, your brain bypassed the fact that he’d driven to Edinburgh and back in the middle of the night and rather got straight back on the path of indignation.

“And you couldn’t have found anything in that storage for me?” You wanted to think it a shock that he would choose something so horrid but it really wasn’t. If the situation was reversed, you would’ve done the exact same thing.

“Revenge is sweet, C—”

“Don’t you dare call me cupcake,” you cut in and then groaned, “This whole thing is utterly humiliating.”

“Be positive,” Henry drawled in a smarmy saccharine tone that did nothing for your mood. He prodded you toward the stage, where Caroline was now frantically waving you over. “Try to think of it more as a selfless act for the greater good.”

“Your greater good, you mean.”

“For Muirford.”

The hours that followed went just as well as you expected. In order to accommodate your inability to memorise an entire script in less than a day, the story was to be narrated with the actors more or less miming the action in the background. Henry, show off that he was, volunteered to recite his own lines and you were relegated (blessedly) to a primarily non-speaking role, with only fitful sighs, genteel gasps, and girlish shrieks to break your vow of silence. Whenever you didn’t know what to do, you simply feigned a dramatic swoon. No one had commented on it thus far, which said a lot about the general direction of the afternoon.

Henry muttered a curse as he once again caught you just before you crumpled to the ground. A fine sheen of sweat dampened his brow and his mouth was firmly set in a scowl. You did your best to ignore how he effortlessly held your weight; the way his muscles tensed as he anchored you against his chest; the way your breasts strained further in your bodice from the pressure.

Jesus fucking Christ, you needed to get a grip. Now was not the time to go method.

“If you swoon one more time, I refuse to catch you,” grunted Henry.

You went slack in his arms, to both grant some space to find your head and to irritate him. “It’s fine. Just let me die here. It would be a kinder fate.

There had been no shortage of chaos as the play progressed, and the anxiety of being centre stage for most of it wasn’t as bad as you’d anticipated. Probably because the whole ordeal was so outlandish that it felt rather like a dissociative experience.

You’d survived a village being burnt to the ground (dark), a plague (even darker), and an evil witch’s curse. Your noble steeds had abandoned you. Most of the flockherd of sheep-unicorns had once again escaped to the fields, along with the majority of the children—most of whom were dressed as various bits of landscape and scenery so things were looking bleak indeed. The brave few (sheep not children) that remained had at one point taken turns seeking refuge under your skirts.

You were sweaty, irritated, and probably smelled like a fetid barn stable on a hot summer's day, but you were too exhausted to care.

Henry fully committed to his part, much to the delight of the crowd of picnickers who’d come to watch the bedlam unfold. He pulled it all off with aplomb you didn’t feel gracious enough to acknowledge. The crowd ate it up, of course, so his ego was well-fed without any praise needed from you.

But now, after a medically-concerning amount of swooning, you were mercifully at the final act. Slumped on the stage floor, you leaned your head back against the post to which you were loosely tied and tried not to think about how your life had gone so far off the rails. After the pillaging, pestilence, and evil sorceress, you’d been kidnapped. By whom, you still weren’t sure, but Henry was now undertaking a grand rescue.

The End wouldn’t come soon enough.

“Cue the dragon!” Gracie bellowed into the megaphone.

After hours of that pint-sized tyrant barking orders, you were more than ready to take that bloody megaphone out into the fields and smash it with a rock.

Yet still, you wondered what poor barn animal was forced to take the role of Dragon.

A cow, perhaps. Maybe a donkey.

Wild applause and hoots of laughter broke out across the lawn of spectators. You were still mulling over casting possibilities when you heard a rhythmic slapping against the stage. The sound was odd if only because it sounded weirdly familiar.

You looked up and let out your first genuine gasp of the day.

Jack stood on the opposite end of the stage. He was dressed head to foot in a bright green hooded bodysuit. It was covered in hand-drawn scales all generously crusted in glitter. His hands were hidden in oversized keeper gloves painted and adorned to match the rest of the bodysuit. Horns hung limply to the sides of his head and resembled rabbit ears more than anything else. The snout on the hood seemed out of proportion with that of a typical dragon and definitely gave more crocodile. You had absolutely no clue what to make of the lime green swim fins on his feet or how they were remotely dragonesque.

Henry proved a true professional and kept a straight face. The only break in character was a quick wink toward Jack before he drew his sword and gave it a playful swish through the air.

“Swoop in!” The megaphone screeched, “Guard your prey, Dragon!”

Jack sighed and trudged across the stage, flip flapping through a cloud of flaking glitter all the way, and crouched down next to you.

“Fancy meetin' ye here.”

You let out a commiserating groan and whispered, “I thought I’d saved you from all this.”

“Aye, so did I.”

The dragon costume really was unfortunate all around. You cast him a sympathetic look.

“Nae need tae suffer on my account. Looks like yer awready sufferin’ enough.” Jack’s smile was half-hidden by the felt-toothed, stuffed snout that flopped over his face. He lifted a finger and pushed it out of way. “Repurposed from a production of Peter Pan, if yer wonderin’.”

Explained a lot, actually. “I’m so sorry.”

Jack shrugged. “The things we dae for family.”

You nodded and settled back against the pole. “I don’t even have that excuse.”

“Whit’s yers?”

“Misplaced sense of honour. A healthy fear of cosmic retribution,” you sighed. “Deeply repressed masochism, even.”

“Oi ye two, this isna bloody tea party!”

Caroline’s voice rose over the echo of the megaphone. “Gracie, mind yer tongue!”

Gracie mumbled something probably far worse out of the register of the megaphone before lifting it to her mouth again. “More fearsome, Jack!”

Jack rose with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. “Best get this over wit.”

He made a valiant effort. He and Henry played well off each other, and at one point looked as if they were actually having a good time of it. Jack made quite a spectacle of the dragon’s eventual death.

Rightfully so. Wouldn’t want to risk resurrection.

Jack let a few of the remaining children amuse themselves by dragging his lifeless form off stage, leaving a scraggy iridescent trail in his wake.

“Awricht,” Gracie snatched up the script from the narrator's hands and read into the megaphone. “Lord Thane, weary and battle-worn, unties his beloved Lady Mariella and gathers her intae a luving embrace.”

Henry huffed and puffed across the stage, adding a bit of a limp for effect. You slipped your hands from the loosely tied scarf around your wrists and Henry feigned great effort in pulling you up.

“If you lovingly embrace me, I shall forcibly remove your limbs from your body.”

“Don’t make the rest of this harder than it needs to be.”

That sounded ominous. “The rest of what?”

A high-pitched whine cut you off and Gracie’s voice boomed forth. “Center stage. Someone mark their spots.”

You and Henry both took three large steps to the left and a helper marked your positions with bright yellow tape before scurrying back off stage.

“I said luving embrace. Closer. Closer. Och, for fu—”

“Gracie!” Caroline hollered, on cue.

“Will you relax?” Henry muttered as he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you closer.

“I’m trying!” you spat. Your back curved as much as the bodice would allow and your head dropped back. Your arms were pinned to his chest, fingers splayed across the faux plated armour. The position forced you to lean into him for support lest you slip to the ground. The whole ridiculous image had to resemble the inner cover of a steamy romance novel.

“Arms around his neck!”

You grumbled but acquiesced.

“Perfect!” Gracie finally bellowed. “Adoring gazes.”

You swore under your breath and made your best attempt at moony half-wit.

“Are you having a stroke?” asked Henry as he watched through heavy, half-lidded eyes. You knew he was acting; this was his profession after all, but his gaze had slipped so quickly and convincingly into sultry and love-soaked that it was unsettling.

You trod on his toes. His eye twitched.

“Now kiss!”

Your head whipped to the side, just in time to connect hard with Henry’s nose. With no thought to the children, you and Henry cursed loudly and wildly. Some of the spectators gasped, others hooted and laughed. Gracie let out a long, frustrated howl.

Henry’s arms disappeared from around you as he staggered back.

You gingerly held the side of your head to ease the throbbing. “Excuse me, what?” Directed at Gracie.

Henry muttered something unintelligible through his hands, but you knew it was scathing. His eyes were furiously watery.

Gracie shot you an impatient look, then mimed a motion as if squishing two dolls together. “Kiss!”

“No.” You shook your head and it made the throbbing worse.

Gracie strode to the front of the stage, which was a good head and half taller than the girl, and fixed you with the most intense glare you’d ever seen on a child. She balled her fists on her hips, which thankfully meant the megaphone was nowhere near her mouth. “Whit dae ye mean, naw?”

“I am not kissing him.”

The lass looked genuinely confused. “I thought ye two wis married.”

“You have been misinformed.” You glowered at Henry for good measure.

“Weel, ye hivtae kiss. This is a luve story and the Happily Ever After is the most important bit.”

“Surely a children’s play does not need a kiss.” This was a lousy attempt to pull rank as the adult in the conversation, though your argument didn’t sound the least bit convincing. Given that almost all the children had abandoned the stage before the end of the second act, you weren’t even sure it could be classified as a children’s production.

Gracie's jaw dropped; she glanced at you, then to Henry (though he offered no explanation), and then back to you. She looked positively mind-boggled. “Hivna ye ever read a fairy tale?”

“How on earth is this a surprise?” Henry added as he held the bridge of his nose and sniffed, then promptly winced.

In truth, it shouldn’t be, as it was a fairy tale (or some twisted hallucination masquerading as one), but you honestly hadn’t thought that far with your anxiety caught up in everything else.

Henry tilted his head back and dabbed at his nostrils. “Didn’t you read the script?”

“Er—not in its entirety.” Embarrassment heated your cheeks. After the seventh scripted swoon, continuing seemed a moot point at the time.

“I ought to sack you for negligence.”

You gave him a withering look. “That’s not what that means and you know it.”

Jack wandered up from behind. The slap of the swim fins was unmistakable.

“Sorry tae break up this meetin’ of creative minds, but Gracie, it’s time tae pack it in for the day.”

“But we’v no rehearsed the final scene!”

“They’ll sort it oot for the morn.”

“But it’s the kiss,” Gracie whined dramatically. It was the first time all day that the lass actually sounded her age.

“It’ll be fine. I guarantee these two ken how tae kiss.”

Oh God, if someone could just put you out of your misery that’d be grand.

Gracie crossed her arms over her chest and aimed a piercing, unconvinced look down the line: Henry, Jack, and then finally you.

“Go’n,” Jack insisted. “Ah remember hearin’ yer Gran sayin’ somethin' aboot weel-earned ice creams.”

“Fine,” she sniffed indignantly, “but the kiss better be perfect.”

She spun on her heel and made it only a few steps before turning to give you all one last glare of disapproval. “Nothin’ less than a true luve’s kiss!” she barked, then stomped the rest of the way to the craft tent.

“She’s going places,” said Henry after a long, stunned moment passed. He loosened the ties on his armour.

“Straight to the naughty step, I hope,” you grumbled. You enviously watched his fingers fiddle with his costume, knowing full well you wouldn’t get relief from the corset until you were back at the inn and managed to track down Annie.

“Mark my words, one day she’ll be bossing me around on a proper set.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“She’s got vision and a commanding presence. Both are vital for making a good director.”

“Vision?” Your voice rose in tandem with your disbelief. “This is a fever dream!”

“I’m with the Lady,” interjected Jack as he leaned over and removed his swim fins. “Best no tae encourage madness.”

“Lady,” Henry scoffed. “A swoony, unconvincing trainwreck if you ask me. You didn’t even try. I had to carry you, quite literally, the entire rehearsal.”

You took a minatory step toward him. “I will skewer you with your own sword.”

He mirrored your step forward. “Good luck with that. It’s as dull as that bloke you dated back in Sixth Form.”

“Excellent, then it shall be all the more painful when I jam it up your—”

“Awright, tae yer corners,” Jack cut in, jerking his reptilian hands in opposite directions. His voice dropped as he nodded meaningfully between you. “Impressionable ears and watchful eyes.”

Your chest rose and fell as rapidly as Henry’s. His neck was flushed, cheek colour high, and his gaze sparked. Irritation fizzled your blood. So much for keeping things publicly civil; both of you looked ready to go for the jugular and there was little doubt to the growing number of onlookers that you were mid-row. They all tried (and failed) to appear completely disinterested in your public spat.

Henry ran a hand through his hair and released an agitated breath, then gingerly inspected the budding bruise on his nose with his fingertips. “I need a drink.”

“Yer in luck.” Jack smiled and clapped him on the shoulder. “I can help ye wi' that.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fan fiction #henry cavill fan fic #henry cavill rpf #rpf #sweetdreamsofgelato writes #fic: midsummer misadventures

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chibi-sunrise · 1 year

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One fan’s observations on Luminaria’s Merch Sales

Because it’s difficult not to feel a little anxious when the future of your favorite game heavily depends on sales of limited merchandise.

That being said, based on what I can observe and no matter how anxious I get, I think Luminaria’s done objectively well for itself when it comes to merch sales.

First, when Luminaria’s OST was released it became the number 1 quickest trending MP3 album on Amazon JP within 12 hours of its release. Here’s a tweet that recorded this statistic.

It was also number 5 in the Top 5 quickest trending MP3 album on Apple Music JP and number 6 in the Top 10 quickest trending MP3 album on Rekochoku. I thought I had the tweets/screenshots that recorded those two, but it turns out I only got the one for Amazon JP this whole time... Well, you can decide for yourself if this sounds right!

Second, around March 2022 there were multiple stores that opened pre-orders for Luminaria’s chibi acrylic stands among other Luminaria-related types of merch. Animate also had them in physical stores because there was an event (AGF 2022) going on in Japan.

Oddly, or perhaps not so oddly, those stores had it in writing that they’d sell the pre-ordered Luminaria merch regularly in June 2022...only to pull their merch from the store listing some time after Luminaria announced EoS. Animate, the Chara, and Animo didn’t offer any explanation for this, but it’s not hard to guess that they were probably just cutting their losses.

[To be honest, I don’t blame them either since the official Tales Channel Plus twitter never once retweeted these stores when they opened pre-orders. Tales Channel Plus also never made any news posts about these stores opening pre-orders either. Any business would be insulted by that.]

At the time, Colleize was still a new store that sold official anime and game-related goods. Because Colleize was new, no one in the Tales of fandom knew enough about them to be confident in buying from them. Tales Channel Plus also didn’t retweet them or make a post about them either.

But the first and only official Tales of merch that Colleize sold was Luminaria merch that the other stores were no longer selling, so Luminaria fans gave them a shot. Colleize was also proxy-friendly and partnered up with Buyee to deliver their products to overseas fans.

And Colleize actually sold out ALL of their Luminaria merch in July 2022! I’m a short-sighted fool, so I didn’t nab any screenshots of their inventory at the time (Past me was probably, “well, the JP fans already took pics and I RT’ed them, so I don’t HAVE to take my own screenshots”) but I do have this tweet I made when I saw it.

Then Colleize restocked their Luminaria merch in September 2022. I actually made sure to record that one, at least. At the time of this post, 3/1/2023, all Luminaria’s badges sold out, all Luminaria’s masking tape sold out, the Federation motif keychain sold out, Falk’s chibi stand sold out, Hugo’s chibi stand sold out, Leo’s chibi stand sold out, Hugo’s acrylic stand sold out, Leo’s acrylic stand sold out, Hugo’s keychain sold out, and Leo’s keychain sold out.

A few other Luminaria items have also sold out around the fourth of April, 2023. August and Alexandra’s chibi acrylic stands are both gone, just to name a couple.

[Wait, all of Hugo and Leo’s stuff sold out with the exception of the blind bromides, which are on back-order, where they could still appear?! Damn, okay...]

And Colleize has a lot more Tales of Series merch available on back-order now too! They’ve got some Destiny stuff, some Arise stuff, some Zestiria stuff... I couldn’t be happier for them that they seem to be doing well! And I hope that more Luminaria fans who haven’t bought Lumi merch, but want to buy them can find their way to Colleize soon!

Because if you’re a Hugo or Leo fan, then you’re already out of luck. People don’t play around... I hope people at least get to buy merch of their faves before it gets sold out like that...sheesh. But when it comes to Luminaria merch, I guess you need to approach it with the mindset that they won’t always be selling Luminaria merch and if they do, your fave isn’t always going to be in stock either. It’s a rough world out there in Luminaria merch availability...

Third, I found some merch photos of people who received their acrylic stands from Asobi store some time after I was sad that Bastien and Raoul’s stands were sold out. I think it just took some time for the stock to be accurately reflected, so all of the physically in stock Luminaria-related merch is sold out on Asobi store too...but until 3/5/2023 JST, you check out this post on how to roll some random Luminaria badges while they’re still available!

And finally, this might be the crowning achievement for Luminaria fans in merch sales so far: the Luminaria hanko stamps! The company had actually been planning to open orders for Luminaria hanko stamps for over a year. When they were accepting orders, Tales Channel Plus actually wrote a news post about it! And the official twitter RT’ed them too! Three times!

The person in charge of the project tweeted that they were excited to see all the different custom engravings the fans had requested early into the ordering period.

The planning and PR manager for the hanko stamps thanked all the Luminaria fans who ordered stamps, tweeting that they think they could probably convey the fans’ love for Luminaria to the publishers too at the end of the ordering period.

The person in charge of the stamp company’s twitter also tweeted that they received many, many, A LOT of orders and thanked the Luminaria fans at the end of the ordering period. They’ve also tweeted that Lycoris Recoil and Luminaria’s requested engravings are some of the most unique ones they’ve seen in the last few years.

So, tl;dr, because Luminaria’s in a delicate position where its future heavily depends on good merch sales, it can be easy for fans, especially EN fans, to get pessimistic about whether or not we can have a meaningful effect.

But when I look at the little victories that Luminaria fans have been able to accomplish despite the rocky challenges, and when I see that the Luminaria fans have made such a stellar impression on a company that their planning and PR manager even commented that they could probably convey the fans’ love to the publishers...

I think it’s okay for Luminaria fans to be a little more hopeful. I think it’s okay for Luminaria fans to look at this and realize that every small victory will add up.

Slowly, but surely, I think Luminaria fans are making a tangible impact.

#tales of #tales series #tales of series #tales of luminaria #luminaria #it's fine to be angry or sad or anxious #because fans are only humans #but be sure to take things into perspective every now and again #and measure your expectations #honestly this is pretty solid #we can only do what we can do as fans #and wait #these things take time

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jinniebit · 1 year

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Anna!! <3 I’m so curious (only if u want to answer 🥰) which one was ur fav(s) mb to do for your spooky season set? I love them all so much! especially the zombies and siren 🧟‍♀️🧜‍♀️- @juiceofmoons 💙

Hi rena! I’d love to answer that hehe

My favs ones (and I’m glad you didn’t ask for just one because it would be impossible to choose) were the Felix + Spiders , Bang Chan + Trick or Treating , Felix + Coraline , Hyunlix + Werewolves , Felix + Witch! This specific ones have a mixture of coloring + finding the right pics that made them really difficult but so enjoyable to make and when I got to the final results I was really proud of it!

But tbh I think all of them were my favorites ☺️

#I would add a link to them but I’m on mobile and I’m to lazy to do it jxhsndhdjs #ask #rena 🌙#lovely moots 💕

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zootplayz · 4 months

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Teenage Campers

Alrighty it's time to get to know our Fox teens.

Our heir, Maddison, is a beautiful young lady who grew into an active sim who wishes to be fabulously wealthy.

This is going to be a fairly difficult task to achieve since at this moment in time the Foxes make just enough to pay their bills each week. We shall see how it goes. Our spares, Harrison and Greyson both became confident (self-assured) sims. Harry wishes to find his soulmate

and Greyson received the outdoor enthusiast aspiration.

Harrison's is going to be easy once he finds that special someone but Greysons looks pretty complicated. I've never had a sim roll this aspiration and it looks rather involved and I hate camping but let's get a start on this. Once the kids hit the honor roll Greyson planned a camping trip with all his friends.

It seemed like a good idea at the time the kids were awfully stressed.

Things started off just fine. Harry started to get to know Neil a friend of his brothers.

Greyson has all the friends from being in Wilma's club as a child. Grey was able to start working on his aspiration.

He even got some frisky time in with the mother of his, unexpected, child.

Speaking of which that extra grand in child support, hurts coming out each week. Grey even made it to the secret area

where he met the hermit, caught some fish harvested all the plants, and collected 7 insects. Well maybe he didn't do that all right there but by the time the vacation was over that's where he was.

Harry and Matilda kept themselves entertained while Grey took on this terribly tedious task.

This aspiration has replaced angling ace as my most hated. It's terrible! When Grey's social need hit a critical level we sent him back to the campsite to hang out with his friends.

Right after this awesome group pic everything went downhill. First, this happened:

Poor Harry got his butt kicked by not so berry's generation rose. They calmed down after this and tried to act civilized.

I think all of the teens were in the mean streak, I know the Foxes were and the other kids kept performing the same animations. The following day Harry took it upon himself to start the day off right with breakfast for the whole crew.

However, before everyone could finish eating *sighs*

What did the Foxes do?

Panic!! All three of them, I mean come on! Luckily Wilma had her bearings.

Otherwise, her ex would be dead. Everyone went back to eating after this, they were all pretty hungry and Grey cooked himself up some bugs.

At this point, things were pretty tense for everyone but somehow love found a way.

I may or may not have kept canceling out Harry's wants until he 'chose' to do what I wanted him to. I usually let the Sims make their romantic choice but Neil is adorable so I kept trying until Harry got a woohoo and boyfriend want. Don't look at me like that he has the soulmate aspiration after all might as well get working on it early. Besides, try telling me they're not cute together. The kids still have 3 days left of their vacation but even Grey is getting homesick. I'm sick of the teens constantly fighting so I decided I'd send them home the following day after everyone was fed. And then, then this happened:

You have got to be kidding me?!?! I'm done!

Part 03 Part 05 Read the full article

#fox #foxlegacy #gen02 #gen2 #graham #greyson #harrison #legacy #maddison #sims4 #sims4legacy #thesims #thesims4

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cas-kingdom · 2 years

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“What about a compromise? I’ll kill them first, and if it turns out they were friendly, I’ll apologize.” With reader getting a date and protective Bucky not happy :3

What about a compromise? I’ll kill him first, and if it turns out he was friendly, I’ll apologise.

A/N: Set after TFATWS.

“What about a compromise? I’ll kill him first, and if it turns out he was friendly, I’ll apologise.”

If there was one thing you certainly hadn’t missed about your life with Bucky, it was exactly how much of a jerk he could be when it concerned boys.

“No! Give it back!”

You leapt at him, trying in vain to grab the phone he’d been holding above his head - far higher than you’d ever grow to be - for the past five minutes. He was peering intently at a number of messages you and a certain... guy... had been sending back and forth over the month. He held it in one hand, his thumb scrolling as he somehow read while simultaneously fending off an antagonised teenage girl with his metal arm.

“Bucky-” You jumped again, clawing at his chest- “you’ve gotta-” And again- “give it back!” You stomped on his foot. Hard. He didn’t respond. “Jesus. Your arm’s made of metal, not your foot.”

“‘Darling?’” Bucky finally spoke, an uncharacteristic hint of scorn piercing his words. “I’m the only one who can call you that!”

You stopped jumping in favour of rolling your eyes, staring straight at him in disbelief. “He’s old school,” you deadpanned, and he shrugged comically.

“So am I, darling.” He turned back to the phone. “Oh, oh, he’s just sent another message!”

Your eyes widened. “Bucky!” You made another wild and useless grab for it. “Stop reading them, you absolute ass!”

“What does this mean... ‘send pics’?”

Oh, Jesus. Oh, God. Oh, Mighty Saviour in Heaven. This could not be happening.

“Does he mean...” Bucky suddenly gasped and his metal hand clenched. Well, he certainly wasn’t stupid for an old man. “Fucking— I’ll show you pics.” He reached into his pocket and swiftly withdrew a hunting knife. You watched, confusion and concern warring with each other, still slightly traumatised by the fact Bucky had seen the guy ask you for pictures, as Bucky flicked quickly to the camera icon, brought the phone a little higher, and promptly snapped a photo of him posing with the knife. His face held a look you could only peg as the ‘Winter Soldier’ look, and the knuckles of his flesh hand were white from squeezing the hilt of the knife.

He nodded once, resolute, and before you could make another attempt for the phone, he pressed send, turning the most victorious look down at you that he could muster. You blinked, jaw dropping. There certainly wasn’t anything worse he could do to the poor guy other than scare him away.

Falling back onto the couch, you sighed and shut your eyes. “That’s it, then,” you groaned. “I no longer have any chance. With anyone. At all. Doomed to be alone forever.”

“Got that right,” Bucky mumbled, lowering his arm now he knew you’d given up. You could have told him many things. You could have told him that times had changed, and older brothers - blood or not - snooping through their younger sister’s phone wasn’t exactly considered respectful. Or, you could have reminded him that you weren’t a child anymore and was perfectly capable and allowed to date who you wanted.

You knew, though, that it was difficult for him to understand. In his past life, you’d been young, and he’d been... simpler. His life had been easier. He hadn’t needed to worry about boys like he did now... hadn’t needed to feel a bucketful of nerves every time you mentioned a male name and his mind automatically turned to every single reason how and why danger could spring from that. And he’d never change. He’d gone through so much. Protecting himself had never been an option and so he was protecting his sister for as long as he could.

“Where’d you find this boy, Doll?” Bucky suddenly asked, and you cracked one eye open to look at him.

“Huh?”

“He’s... God. He’s one of those. Here, you can have it back.”

“One of what?” You sat up, taking your phone back.

“One of the people you warned me about,” Bucky said in disgust, “the... fans.”

At that, you turned your full attention to your phone and read the guy’s response to Bucky’s supposedly threatening photo.

Ha ha, funny. Impressive photoshop, though.

Wait, is that you at the back?

Is that the real winter soldier? James Barnes? Holy shit.

You sighed. Clearly, it hadn’t been as threatening as Bucky had hoped.

And... oh, wait, there was more.

This is fucking awesome!!!!!!

There was a pretty simple reason why you never told a guy who your family was. They, quite simply, freaked. Even if they weren’t one to keep up with the Avengers, there wasn’t a soul who didn’t know who Steve Rogers was, therefore you told any guy you happened to meet and like that your name was Y/N Genevar, and pray they didn’t recognise you from TV. This guy, Henry, you had met outside the Chinese restaurant Bucky liked to eat at, and you’d talked for a while before he’d asked for your number. He’d seemed genuine and unsure as to who you were, so you’d given it to him, along with the fake name, and a month later you were both were here. You were... you could say you were happy. Now, you were sure what you were. Ruined, maybe?

Y/N, you know this makes you infinitely cooler?

You smiled and lifted your eyes to glance across at Bucky, who seemed to think he’d effectively gotten rid of his competition. Perhaps you weren’t so ruined, after all.

Shaking your head, you decided you’d ensure he continued to think that way until he caught you again.

I know I am. Want to go for lunch after I put him to bed?

Avengers Masterpost

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punchdrunkdoc · 1 year

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Part 2, Chapter 7

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics - *UPDATED*

————–

PART 2

Chapter 7

“We found something. More accurately, we found someone.”

The call from Yelena interrupted Calina’s research session. It was Wednesday afternoon, and she was sat at the dining room table listening to the patter of rain against the window while she investigated pheromones and Governors.

She was multi-tasking on two separate mysteries at once: Who was making the fear pheromones that Matt was chasing all over the city? And why had someone tried to make her assassinate the Governor of New York state?

Unfortunately, she wasn’t getting far on either front. So Yelena’s call was less an interruption and more of a welcome distraction.

“Who did you find?” Calina asked.

“Katya’s handler. The one that was still giving her orders after Dreykov died. His name is Maxim Volkov and we’ve tracked him to a house outside Washington D.C. It seems to be his main residence in the States. Do you want in?”

“In?”

“Yeah, in on the mission. We have the extraction planned for tomorrow night, then we’ll start his interrogation the next day. Our intel suggests that he has something to do with what happened to you, so we thought you might want to be part of it.”

She did.

And she didn’t.

The part of her that was angry - the part that never quite went away no matter how many punching bags she hit - wanted revenge. It wanted to face the man or the men responsible for what happened to her, get answers…and make them pay.

But she didn’t want to indulge that side of herself.

It was the darkness buried within her - the darkness she’d alluded to with Matt the other night. The wicked, rage-filled blight on her soul.

Matt had found a way to live with his darkness. To harness it in the fight for good. But she wasn’t so sure she could do the same. Her darkness was cultivated from decades of abuse at the hands of the Red Room. It was formed of years of pain and loathing and fury - for everything that had been done to her and her sisters. And everything they’d been forced to do against their will.

It was a relatively small part of her, but it had a gravity that belied its size. Like a black hole, always threatening to consume her.

She’d given into it once, when they’d first been freed from the serum. And she’d swore never to do so again. Instead, she’d buried it deep and vowed to move on. To build a life of hope and joy, instead of anger and shame.

She wanted to concentrate on that new life.

But it was hard to explain that to Yelena without sounding judgemental. Without sounding like she was criticising the choices the other Widows had made. So she didn't even try. All she said was, “I’ll think about it.”

The next phone call came an hour later.

“Hey, what are you up to?” Matt asked.

This was the third day in a row that he’d called her from work. He usually had an excuse - asking what she wanted him to pick up for dinner, reminding her to take the garbage out - but then he would linger on the call, and the two of them would chat for a while.

About everything and nothing.

She told herself not to read too much into it. That he was just bored at work, or needed a distraction from a difficult case. But she couldn’t help but wonder if he…missed her? That maybe the hours between saying goodbye in the morning and hello in the evening were too long for him?

Just like they were for her.

“I'm doing some research,” she answered. “I’m trying to work out why someone would want Governor Benson dead. I thought if I could figure that out, I might be able to figure out who gave me the order to kill him.”

“Any luck?”

“No. There’s too many possibilities. He’s made a lot of controversial policy choices since getting elected, so there’s plenty of people gunning for him for politically. Then there’s his history in the Army - there’s a chance that the hit was a retaliation for a past mission. And his private life is a mess. He cheated on his wife with an intern, so maybe she wanted revenge.”

Matt hummed in agreement. “Wouldn’t be the first time. But I can see why you’re frustrated.”

“Yeah.”

“A workout will fix that. We’re still on for Fogwell’s tonight, right? That’s, um, why I called.”

And there it was. Today’s excuse.

Calina smiled. “Yes.”

They’d made the plan last night - not because her anger demanded another outlet, but because it was a good way to get her some exercise and get her out of the house without ending up somewhere too public.

“Good. I thought we might mix things up this time. You up for a sparring session in the ring?”

Calina didn’t have to think about it. The chance to pit her skills against Matt again in a completely harmless, no-stakes scenario? To have the excuse to be near him and touch him…?

No brainer.

“Count me in.”

———

“Foggy and Karen will still be in Josie’s by the time we finish - what do you think about joining them afterwards?” Matt asked as he emerged from the changing room.

She’d met him outside the gym ten minutes ago. He was still in his work clothes and she was swallowed under one of his jackets, the hood up to fight against the rain and any prying eyes. The smile he’d greeted her with when he spotted her was bright enough to make her forget all about the miserable weather. And now his offer to join his friends for drinks warmed her from the inside out.

She felt like she was becoming a part of the gang. “Yeah,” she responded. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” Matt swung over the ropes surrounding the boxing ring and held them up for her to duck under. “I’ll try not to wear you out too much beforehand.”

She laughed as she joined him in the ring. “Famous last words, old man.”

“Old man?” Matt spluttered in outrage. But Calina knew from his wide smile that he was enjoying her teasing. After days of her being morose and angry, her good mood probably made a nice change.

And she was in a good mood. Her earlier frustration at the lack of progress with her research had vanished with Matt’s offer of a sparring session. She’d been looking forward to playing with him all afternoon.

Play.

It was another new experience. Training and sparring had always been serious endeavours growing up. There was no such thing as play-fighting in the Red Room. Every bout involved pain and the threat of critical injury.

She couldn’t wait to just have fun with him.

She brought her hands up in a defensive pose and mirrored Matt’s movements as he circled around her. “Yeah. You’re what? Late thirties, early forties?”

“I’m 33.” He struck at her, a slow jab that she could have seen coming from space. She dodged it with ease and landed a light punch over his left kidney.

“Really? You look a lot older.” She whipped her leg up and tapped him on the upper arm with her foot. “Its just as well you can’t see your reflection in the mirror. You’d be horrified by all the wrinkles and sagging skin.”

She was joking, of course. She knew exactly how old he was thanks to Anya’s research. And he wore those years well - she thought he was the most handsome man she’d ever met.

Matt laughed, then spun in a crouch, trying to sweep her legs from beneath her. Again, his move was slow and well-telegraphed.

Calina jumped over his leg, then rested her hands on her hips. “Come on, Matt. Are we gonna spar or just mess about?”

He gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I started having second thoughts about this. I thought it might remind you too much of our real fight.”

She returned his smile. “That’s sweet, but you don’t need to worry - I’m not that fragile. I want to do this.” She thought it might help, actually. That it would serve to replace those awful memories from three weeks ago with something much more positive and enjoyable.

“You sure?” Matt asked, bring his hands back up.

She nodded, matching his pose. “Sure.”

“Okay, then. Bring it.”

She shook her head. “Uh-uh. I’m a defensive fighter. You come here.” She slowly curled her index finger into her palm, beckoning him closer.

He grinned. And launched his attack.

There were no telegraphed moves this time. And his lumbering slowness was replaced with his usual lightning-quick speed. But she met him, move for move. She blocked or evaded each of his hits and kicks and followed up with the occasional jab of her own. And when he moved from boxing to wrestling, she flowed out of his reach and turned his momentum against him, flipping him to the ground as often as he managed to flip her.

It was exhilarating. They were so in sync. Their styles so complimentary.

Of course, she knew from painful experience that when he wasn’t pulling his punches she was no match for his power - but she also knew that he struggled to get near her when she utilised all her defensive training.

And he struggled to hold on to her when he finally did catch her - like now. He had her arms pinned behind her back, one large hand wrapped around each of her slender wrists. “Gotcha,” he whispered in her ear.

She paused for a moment, enjoying the feel of him against her back, the warmth radiating from his skin and his breath against her neck…

Then she moved. She relaxed her body, bent her knees and ducked under his right arm. This unbalanced him, and a quick shove against his side caused him to roll away from her and across the mat. She stood up to her full height and grinned down at him. “You were you saying?”

He returned her grin as he got to his feet. “Nicely done. What was that?”

“Aikido. When the trainers in the Red Room realised I wasn’t as strong as the other girls, they brought in an Aikido specialist. Its a discipline that focuses on defence.”

“It obviously works for you.” He sounded so…impressed. And coming from a fighter as talented as Matt, it made her feel ridiculously proud.

And it made her want to show off even more.

A few minutes later, she got her chance. Matt came at her, crouched to land a jab against her flank. She took the hit, and used his bent leg like a step to climb up behind him. She hooked her left leg over his left shoulder and used her momentum to spin her body around his neck, so that when he collapsed to the floor on his back, she landed on top of him - a hand at his neck and her knee on his chest pinning him in place. Her other hand hit the mat by his head and she froze there, her face hovering inches above his.

A lock of hair escaped her ponytail and fell forward to brush against his cheek. He lifted his hand to tuck the strand behind her ear, then ran his fingers down the line of her jaw. “God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed.

“Wh-what?” she whispered, stunned by his quiet words. His other hand came up to her waist, as if to steady her, his fingertips pressing into her skin.

Her mouth went dry. She licked her lips, and Matt’s eyes dropped to her mouth as if he could see the movement…

She sprang to her feet and backed away, suddenly feeling flustered.

Matt sat up, and ran his hand through his hair, looking equally unsettled. “Sorry, I, um, mean the way you move. When you’re fighting. Its so graceful and fluid. I was just, um, admiring it. One fighter to another. Nothing more.”

He was lying. There was more.

There was much more, Calina was sure of it.

The way he’d looked up at her just now, his lips parted, and his eyes shining with wonder…the gentle way he'd grazed the skin of her jaw, and the way his other hand had clutched at her waist…it felt like so much more.

It felt like…attraction.

And she had no idea how to process it.

“Calina?” Matt asked.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, realising she hadn’t responded to his compliment. “Thank you. You’re pretty graceful yourself.” She tightened her ponytail and adjusted her top. “That was fun. But I think I need a break.”

“Yeah. Okay. No problem.” He pulled his bag closer to him from where it waited at the edge of the ring, then grabbed the water bottle from inside. He downed half of it it one go while she tentatively took a seat next to him.

He offered her the other bottle from his bag and she accepted it with a shy, “Thanks.”

She didn’t know how to act around him now. It was the first time since meeting Matt Murdock that she was certain he was attracted to her. And it made her wonder whether her one-sided feelings were maybe not so one-sided after all.

And with that thought, came another much more staggering realisation.

She loved him.

This wasn’t just friendship. This wasn’t just gratitude or affection or respect. It was all of those things, and infinitely more. She loved him. She was in love with him. The merest possibility of her feelings being reciprocated crystallised them in her mind after weeks - months - of uncertainty.

She loved him.

“Are you okay,” Matt asked, and she realised she’d been staring off into space for several minutes.

She laughed. She wasn’t okay. She was having a life-altering epiphany in the middle of an abandoned, run-down gym.

“I’m fi-” She glanced over at him and stopped mid-sentence. He must have removed his sweat-drenched shirt while she was distracted with her thoughts, because his bare torso was now on display as he stretched out on his back, his head resting on his crooked arm.

But that wasn’t what had caused the words to die in her mouth. It was the horrible blue-black bruising spread across his left flank. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“What do you mean?”

She swivelled around to face him and crossed her legs. Then she touched her fingers as lightly as she could to his injured skin. “This. Who did this?”

He brought his hand down to cover hers. “It’s nothing. Just some thug last night.”

“Jesus, Matt! And you still suggested sparring with me? You must be in so much pain.”

He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

She studied the rest of his bared skin, seeing the evidence of that with her own eyes. Scars criss-crossed and marred his body. Some were neat, showing signs of suturing, whilst others were more ragged and raised.

He must have sensed what she was looking at, because he rubbed his hand over one of the thicker, more gnarled wounds and tried to make a joke of it. “Not a pretty sight, I guess. Must go well with all my wrinkles and sagging skin.”

She gently stroked his bruised skin. “You look like a survivor. Like a warrior. I wish I looked the same.”

He tilted his head to look in her direction. “What do you mean?”

“I was never allowed to keep my scars. The nature of my missions meant that I always had to look perfect. Flawless. So the Red Room used the best surgeons and the most cutting-edge laser technology to remove them.”

She held out her left arm. “A few years ago, I was caught in the blast of a car bomb in Peru. A shard of shrapnel the size of a golfball was impaled here.” She took his hand and ran it over the smooth, unmarked skin of her forearm.

She pulled the strap of her lycra top to the side and placed his hand on her collarbone. “I took a strike from a machete here. The blade hit the bone and got stuck - its the only reason I wasn’t slice in two. That, and the fact that the man who attacked me didn’t sharpen his knives often enough.”

Matt said nothing, just explored her undamaged skin with his fingertips.

“All those wounds,” she continued. “All those experiences, and I have nothing to show for it. Nothing to prove I survived.”

“You’re alive,” he said, his voice deeper than normal. “That’s pretty good proof.”

“I guess. And maybe its good that I don’t have any physical reminders about those missions. The car bomb was actually set by one of the other Widows. And the man with the machete…he wasn’t the bad guy in that scenario. Those aren’t encounters I’m proud of. I just hate that removing my scars was one more way the Red Room controlled me. One more way in which they removed any sense of…individuality.”

“Individuality?”

“Yeah. We were all so…homogenous…to them. We were all dressed the same way. We all had the same sheets on our bed and the same colour toothbrush. They even braided our hair the same way. We had no personality.” Calina pulled her hair forward to play with the long strands. “The first thing I wanted to do when I got to New York was cut off all my hair. I didn’t want to ever have to braid it again.”

“What stopped you?”

Calina let out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t know how to find a hairdresser.”

Matt reached up and took a lock of hair. He rubbed the silky strand between his fingers. “I’m glad you didn’t. I like your hair.”

“Thank you. I like it now too. And I don’t want to cut it - I just want to find my style, you know? My taste. I want to feel like this is my body. Scars, and all.”

“I get it.” Matt slide his hand from her collarbone to the back of her shoulder, to the small scar that was hidden there. “And you have this one, remember?”

Calina moved her hand to the same spot, her fingers tangling with his as she traced the tiny mark. “Oh, I forgot about that.” It was the wound she’d received from Katya in Seoul. The one that Matt had helped her dress when she’d returned to New York.

“How did that happen?” he asked. “It wasn’t from falling onto a broken bottle of glass. I knew that even at the time.”

“You did?”

“Yeah,” He smiled. “But I figured - no, I hoped - you would eventually tell me the truth about it.”

She smiled back at him. “It happened in South Korea.”

“You went to South Korea that week?” he sounded astonished. She got the feeling he rarely - if ever - left the country.

“Yeah. Katya - do you remember her from that night?” He nodded, so she continued. “It was a rescue mission for her. She was still under control of the serum so we went to free her.” She explained about her infiltration of the Ambassador’s mansion and her fight with the other Widow. “I guess if I was to have only one scar, that’s a good one to have. It came from doing something I chose to do.”

“And it came from doing something good. From helping someone,” Matt added.

“Yeah.” She ran her finger over a small puckered wound on his right upper chest. “What about you? How did you get this one?” she asked softly.

“Bullet. I was shot rescuing hostages from The Hand.”

“From who?”

“Doesn’t matter. They’re gone.”

She moved her fingers to a nearby wound, this one larger and angrier-looking. “And this?”

“Arrow.”

“An arrow? Who uses an arrow?”

He smiled. “Ninjas.”

“You were shot by a bow-and-arrow wielding ninja?” It was her turn to sound astonished.

He laughed. “Yeah. My life got very…strange…for a while.”

She looked for another scar, starting to enjoy this little game of theirs - not hearing about him being hurt, obviously. But she liked getting glimpses of his past. There was still so much about him that she didn’t know.

She traced the long oblique line across his pec. There was a matching one on the other side. “How about these?”

“Believe it or not, they were from another Ninja. He carried a blade on a chain.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

Her hand moved lower, slowly gliding down over his ribs and onto his abdomen, where a thin, barely noticeable scar resided. “And this?”

He swallowed sharply, and she felt his muscles jump beneath her wandering fingers.

Another sign of his attraction.

It was intoxicating, seeing the evidence of his desire. It made her feel strong. Bold.

For the first time since she met him, her shyness deserted her.

And for the first time in her life, she acted on impulse. She moved towards him, one hand still resting on his stomach, the other braced by his head.

And then she leaned closer…

And closer…

Until her lips were inches from his…

————–

Chapter 8

(Check out the references for Calina’s moves in the ring)

Taglist: @hollandorks @yanna-banana @stilldreaming666 @tearosearts-blog @chezagnes @freckledbabyyy @acharliecoxedfan

If you’d like to be added, let me know!

#Daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #marvel's daredevil #daredevil x original female character #tabula rasa #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x original character #Matt Murdock

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musings-of-a-rose · 2 years

Text

I Hate That I Like You - The Premiere (Part 3)

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Word Count: 2600+

Rating: M for mature - 18+ only! NSFW

Warnings: Mature themes and some canon mentioned. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: This is a one shot set after the events of the main story, I Hate That I Like You.

I originally posted the fic as partly as a thank you for reaching 300 followers (and partly because I couldn’t resist that man), but as I go to schedule this one, I hit 400! I am absolutely FLOORED and I can’t eve find the words to thank each and every one of you who followed me, reblogged my writing, liked it (which I know does nothing in the algorithm, but I still see it and it makes me smile), commented, pm me, told me you were re-reading fics I’ve written (cried about that one for a while!), all of it. You all mean the world to me and just know that if you’ve interacted in some way, I have seen your name and I recognize it and you make my day every time.

**Reader is ethnicity inclusive despite stock photo bias

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

The day you got out of the bubble, Dieter took you out on your first date. You expected something lavish and over the top, considering her personality, but it was surprisingly simple and low key. He even rented out an entire back room just so you could have your privacy. When he had arrived at your door, he asked you bluntly if you were sure about dating him because once someone recognized him and saw you with him, you couldn’t take it back. And while the majority of his fans were great people, there’s always those select few that are not. You were sure and happily went on that date.

That was nearly 8 months ago.

Editing takes longer when people are working from home, communicating being a little more difficult, edits and re-edits needing to be discussed. But finally, Cliff Beasts 6 was ready and the premiere was looming.

Dieter had asked you to accompany him and you happily agreed, never having been to a premiere before. He told you it would be different, as there were new procedures in place due to the pandemic. But you didn’t care - you were there to support him. Although seeing your work on the big screen was a definite plus.

A knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts and you glance at the clock, surprised he was on time for once. You plan to make a remark about this, but all words leave your head as you open the door and see Dieter standing there.

He’s in simple black dress pants and shoes, no tie, a white long sleeved top buttoned all the way up under a black coat that walked out of your fantasies. It reminds you of something Mr. Darcy would wear. The long black coat comes down to his knees, with a simple 3 buttons and 2 pocket flaps, one on either side of the coat. His hair is wild, his curls roaming free after letting them grow just a little. He’s let his facial hair grow a bit, knowing you love the bald patches on his jawline. He has his glasses on, the ones with the thicker black frames that you adore. He looks up at you, smirking at the look on your face.

“You look like a fish.”

Snapping yourself out of the trance, you retort. “Yeah, well you’re a jerk.”

He smirks. “Not your best work.”

“Yeah well. They can’t all be winners.” You gesture towards him and he gives you a couple claps.

“Much better.”

He finally takes a look at you, eyes roaming up and down your body at the ridiculous dress you have on. You’d never been to a premiere before and had no clue what to wear, really, since you weren’t a star. The minute you asked Dieter for help you regretted it, getting sent pics of increasingly slutier dresses before you finally asked if he preferred you go naked, to which he replied “Only for me.”

The dress was gorgeous and fit your body like a glove, showcasing all of your best features. It cost more than your entire apartment and was definitely not something you would’ve picked out, but you have to admit - you did rock this thing.

“You look beautiful, Bee.”

“As do you.”

He looks at you expectantly and you sigh, giving in only because this was a big premiere night.

“Big D.”

“That’s my girl!”

–

He helps you into the limo, where you sit with your leg bobbing up and down in anticipation. He places a large, warm palm on your bare skin and your knee stops bouncing.

“You don’t have to be nervous.”

“I know, I know. Everyone is just a regular person, but it’s all the cameras and-”

He lets out a raspberry. “Ignore that. Big D will show you a good time.”

“Oh God let me out.” You pull at the locked door handle as Dieter chuckles.

He chats with you, a constant stream of words and random stories - his attempt at calming your nerves. And fuck if it didn’t work. His voice was actually soothing to you, calming you down no matter how wound up you were..but you’d die before admitting that to Dieter.

Pulling up to the front, someone walks up to the door to open it. Dieter squeezes your hand.

“Ready?”

Letting out a breath you nod. “Ready.”

Dieter gets out of the limo, lights on cameras flashing away and the distant sound of screams from where they kept the fans away, having to keep everyone at a social distance. Dieter still walks over towards them, waving and turning around to pose in a giant selfie with them all. He waves and chats as well as he can and you can see how it kills him to not be in the crowd with them, interacting on a personal basis. Someone taps his shoulder and leans in his ear and he waves bye to the fans, turning back towards the main carpet. He offers his arm to you and you take it, allowing yourself to be led down the red carpet, lights flashing before your eyes as photographers yell for Dieter to turn to them. You gently let go of his arm and he looks at you, giving you a small smile as you nod and step back, walking back several steps and standing out of the way as he poses for pictures.

His whole face lights up with a smile, turning left and right, throwing up hand signs as he could and you find yourself getting warm between your thighs as you take him in. A couple minutes pass before you feel a hand on your arm. Turning, you see Carol Cobb’s long time girlfriend, Amy. You smile a hello and she jerks her head, away from where Dieter stands. You follow, keeping an eye on Dieter so he knows you didn’t ditch him. She leans in to speak in your ear.

“This is where all of the others wait.”

Chucking, you ask “Others?”

“Yeah. Significant others, friends, parents. The others. We’ll meet them at the other end of the carpet. The press needs their pics.”

“Oh right. Dieg-Dieter mentioned that. Thanks for grabbing me.”

“Welcome! You can hang with me.”

A bit goes by before you and Amy make it to the end of the red carpet, waiting for Dieter and Carol. They arrive and you all exchange the basics before turning to head inside. You mill around, speaking to random people and waiting by Dieter’s side as he makes the rounds, always making sure he’s touching you, as if he’s checking in. You squeeze his hand or touch him back to let him know you’re good.

About 20 minutes goes by before a man comes up to Dieter and speaks in his ear, Dieter nodding.

“Come on, Bee. They need us backstage.”

You both follow the man to a backstage area. It’s basically empty, no one milling about or even walking by. The stage where the giant screen is is just beyond the curtains. The man ushers you both off to the side before leaving.

“I gotta say a few words before the premiere.”

“I can’t believe they picked you for that.”

“They said I was the most charismatic.”

“Then we’re all screwed.”

He scrunches his nose up at you in response and you wink at him as you turn to try and peek out of the curtains, Dieter moving to stand behind you. His hands come to your arms, tracing light paths up and down your bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Then his fingers start dancing towards your cleavage and you grab his wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

His voice is in your ear, speaking low. “Touching my girlfriend.”

Heat rushes your body at the thought and Dieter notices, taking advantage of the moment to slide his hand down the front of your dress and pinch your nipple.

“Diego…” You get lost in the sensation for a moment, the heat between your thighs getting louder. But then you remember where you are and you pull his hand out, pushing it off to the side. He lets out a huff, momentarily letting you be. Suddenly, Dieter pulls you to his chest, wrapping you in his coat with him.

“What are you-”

“Sshh. Hold this.” You look down and see the opening of his coat, being held together by his hands. You grip it, brows furrowed in confusion. But before you can ask again, his lips are on your exposed neck, biting, licking, sucking, kissing. Your knees go weak for a moment but you don’t fall, Dieter holding you up inside the coat.

“You gonna be quiet for me?”

“Why would I n-need..oh!” The last word is whispered out as Dieter’s hands slide into the coat, finding the slit in your dress and slips his hand inside, running his fingers along your seam. He grunts in your ear when he feels how wet you already are.

“Already waiting for me, huh?”

“Fuck you, Diego Morales.”

“That’s the point, Bee.” He chuckles and you can hear the smirk on his face.

“God, you’re insufferable sometimes..” His fingers found your clit, rubbing circles there.

“I think you’re ready.”

“What? No, Diego. We’re in public.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“I only did it to shut you up.”

“Well then, hold tight to the coat.” He grabs at your dress and lifts it up towards your hips, unzipping his pants to free his hard cock. He slides it through your folds and you moan, unable to stop yourself.

“Now now, shush. Big D will give you what you want.”

“Oh God, don’t you shut up?”

He plants his hand on the wall in front of your face, gently leaning over your body to bend you over slightly. He thrusts up into you and you whine, his other hand flying up to your mouth.

“You need to be quiet or we’ll get caught.” His voice is low and raspy, and you hate how much it turns you on.

He sets a rough, quick pace, knowing that you’re playing with time. Your fingers clutch at the opening of the coat, holding it together as if the coat could hide the way you’re practically slamming into the wall. Dieter’s hand is on the wall slightly above your face, bracing himself as he fucks into you. His hands are so large, the little bullseye tattoo straining with the pull of his skin as his fingers grip the wall. You remember exactly what those fingers could do and you can’t help the cry that escapes your lips before slamming them closed.

“You like that? Like how Big D fucks you?” he whispers in your ear.

“Fuck, you’re so annoying.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

“Don’t let my feelings fuel your ego, Big D.”

“Ah ha! See?”

The idea of getting caught, the way you and Dieter verbally spar as he fucks you fantastically grows your orgasm quickly. You grab his hand that’s not on the wall and bring it to your clit, rubbing circles there. He thrusts into you twice more before you come, squeezing him as the hand on the wall flies to your mouth so you can moan into it. Once you start to come down, Dieter’s hand returns to the wall and he resumes his pace, chasing his own high. It only takes several more thrusts before he’s grunting in your ear, spilling himself inside you.

He places two soft kisses on your neck before pulling out, stuffing himself back in his pants. His hands ghost across your hips, finding the edge of your dress and pulling it back down, smoothing it out as you drop his coat. You turn around to face him, still slightly out of breath as you look into his eyes, which are now soft.

“I hate that I love you so much.”

Smiling at each other, you kiss, several moments passing before you hear someone clearing their throat. Breaking apart, you see the man who had escorted you backstage.

“Are you all set, Mr. Bravo?”

“We’re good, kid. Thanks.”

The man turns back around and starts to usher some people back into the area where you had previously been alone. Realization sets in and your eyes grow wide as you turn to Dieter.

“Did you have that man keep the room empty so you could fuck me?”

His eyes sparkle. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Your jaw drops open, but you don’t have time to respond before hair and makeup rush Dieter, dabbing at him before his time on stage. He kisses the back of your hand as you’re escorted to the main seating area, sitting down in your designated chair next to where Dieter will be sitting.

The nerve of that man! You find yourself trying to stifle a smile. But he did it for you, knowing he could help you relax. And ensure you wouldn’t actually be caught.

The lights dim and Dieter steps on stage, a spotlight following him around as he starts his speech. You watch him, his eyes sparkling still as he gestures around, his hair looking impossibly soft as it curls up at the ends, his face animated in his speech. And that’s when it clicks into place -

You would spend the rest of your life with him if he asked.

–

The movie was…well it was Cliff Beasts 6. But everyone seemed to love it and you watched Dieter maneuver around the journalists, answering questions and posing for pictures, but this time, his hand never left yours. You would shift yourself behind him, wanting him to have his time in the spotlight but he would pull you back around, inevitably bringing up the fact that you were the one that styled his hair during the entire experience of being in the bubble.

Back in his apartment, you stand in front of the window, admiring the night time view of the city, lights twinkling and cars zooming by on the road below. Diego walks up, handing you a glass of wine and you clink it on his, taking a sip after. You both stand there in a comfortable silence, content to just be around the other.

“Marry me.”

You nearly drop your glass as you stammer out, completely caught off guard. “Wha-what?”

Diego turns to face you and gets down on one knee, taking your hand in his. He pulls a small box out of his coat pocket, neither of you having undressed when you got back. He opens it to reveal a gorgeous ring, completely your style, and you realize that he had to have had it in his pocket the entire evening.

“Bee, I know we started out hating each other, but you somehow crawled into my heart. I love how we get each other riled up, but we also use that same energy to love each other so intensely that sometimes I’m overwhelmed with how I feel. I know I can be an asshole sometimes, but that’s only because I’m used to being the only one who looks out for me. Now I have you…if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

Staring down into his eyes, which were now round and glossy, just like a damn puppy, you remember your realization from earlier and know what your answer will be.

“If only so I can continue to knock your ego down a few pegs.”

He smiles wide. “That’s a yes, then?”

“Yes. I’d follow you anywhere, Diego Morales.”

He slides the ring onto your finger and stands up, crashing his lips to yours before pulling back.

“I love you so fucking much, Bee.”

“I love you so fucking much, Diego.”

His lips find yours again as he walks you backwards towards the bedroom door. Wedding planning can wait until later.

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @softpedropascal @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @diaryofkali @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @jadore-andor @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21@gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711

All One Shots/Writing Prompts/Ficlets:

@itspdameronthings @Whovianayesha @anaaaispunk @tanzthompson @thatpinkshirt @petersunderoos96 @mswarriorbabe80 @hotchlover

#Dieter Bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x female reader #the bubble #dieter bravo x reader #the bubble fanfic #the bubble fanfiction #the bubble ff #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal character fanfiction #cliffbeasts 6 #cliff beasts 6

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streaming-yn · 3 years

Note

(☁️)

HIIII it's 3 am and i'm trying to sleep but brain went brr with ideas n shit and oh well- thing is ; i was wondering if i could make my first request? (smth simple if u want to, no need to be very long or anything + pls don't rush nd take ur time AND don't feel pressured to actually do my request :] ! ) maybe smth ab faceless art streamer! y/n [they/them]?? (if u could add that the reader is like an indie game dev or works for smth like that u'd be sosososososo cool omg) with maybe quackity, tommy, dream, ranboo, niki and/or jack?? idk brain did the storming and its all messy hsdnshhfjsjz (btw! i know it's a lot of CCs so feel free to remove some or do the ones ur only comfy with !!! take care nd stay safe !!! luv ya <3 (/p))

AS SOMEONE WHO LIKES TO GAME DESIGN, CHARACTER, AND PLOT DESIGN YOU BET I CAN MAKE THE READER AND INDIE GAME DEV (and aaaa ty for adding jack!!! I think he's really neat and not enough people acknowledge him :))!!)

Multiple x indie game dev!artist!y/n

pairings: quackity, tommy, dream, ranboo, niki, jack manifold (separate) x indie game dev!artist!y/n

pronouns: they/them

other information on the reader:

. faceless

. knows how to code

. artist

. streams them drawing video game characters

. minor

. makes indie / horror games

form: headcanons

genre: platonic, fluff(??)

warnings: horror games / horror mods, ranboo enderwalk lore in his section

abbreviations: y/n -> your name

quackity

okay let's get the obvious out of the way; definitely going to be the type of person that's like "I'm going to play this game first after you're finished" yk? playfully ofc, n playfully fight with anyone who says the same thing (*cough* Wilbur, tommy, dream *cough*)

he probably wouldn't be on your art streams often – he doesn't really enjoy watching people draw, but he would want to see the finished pics

he would happily be on voice chat with you while you're drawing though!! :D

would be proud to answer any questions you have about character / scene / etc designs!!

"quackity!! so for this character – check your dms for a current picture – would red or purple antenna be better? also, two or four antenna?"

"*gasp* you're asking me?? 🥺" /j

"y'know what, nevermind, chat wh-"

"NO WAIT WAIT"

"so what do you think?"

also, if you do end up sending him the finished pics of the art he will hype you tf up !!!!

would try to get you make joke games – not like actually, it's just an ongoing bit between you two!

if you make a game for him – or give him a sneak peek of a game before anyone else he's going to freak out!! and he won't really know what to say bc putting feelings into words is hard

if y'all ever meet up and you're fine w hugs he's gonna give you a huge hug, hoping that makes up for the lack of words to describe how just,, proud of you he is bc he really really is!!

you're not even in your 20s yet and you can make video games, or help with them?? not to mention how creative you are with the characters and story line??? he's amazed by you

might actually cry /pos if you base a character off of him

like let's say a part of a puzzle is to get a rubber duck and place it into a pond to get the next hint or thing you need – only when he plays it on stream, he doesn't know anything about the game, so you're watching and waiting for him to get there

when he does get there – he finds out the duck has a beanie and has a white ring appear around it that flashes to life before fading out after picking it up, signifying it was the right thing to get

at first he doesn't really notice the ring, "oh! that animation is different than normal" he notes, but mainly focuses on the beanie, comparing it to himself before he glances at chat to see them freaking out over the planet duck reference

then he's just talking about it, shocked of course but flattered, and then you type in chat "you helped me a ton with things I couldn't decide during this game, I couldn't not add you! :)" everyone's just :(((( !!! /pos

overall supportive n proud, maybe a bit loud about games in progress, but just a really nice guy in general :)

tommy

he is ABSOLUTELY loud about your games in progress!! if you don't want something said you have to tell that to him before telling him or else he's going to brag about how cool it is the next time he streams

"chat!! chat, y/n is making this new game and they told me that one of the outfits you can collect for the player is going to be based off me!- right!! that sounds pog!!"

if he ever accidentally let's anything slip on stream that he was supposed to say, everyone who's a fan of you is just like "wow! suddenly! I cannot hear anymore!", sometimes they're like that even if it was okay to say

the just like being surprised :)

as for art streams, he'll try his best to tune in but obviously won't be there all the time! he's usually very active in chat too! likes being on call with you while you do art streams if you let him!

he once convinced you to make a texture pack and a shader (meant for both to be active at the same time), the fans loved it and a lot of them use it more often than the original!!

tommy however, not to much, proud of you bc that must've been a ton of work!! but at some time it slipped his mind that you make indie and horror games; I think we all know he doesn't do well with horror games

so you liking horror and such made the textures look more ominous and just make it look like and area you don't want to be in, and the spook goes up even more with the shader!! it's darker than usual, there's unusual fog, the portals look too dangerous now, so on and so forth yk

so,, tommy didn't use the texture pack for long;;

if you ever raid him after you're done streaming and he has a question, he's literally just gonna ask you on stream

"y/n raid? oh! are they still here?" when you confirm you're in chat, he continues "great! okay I had a question about your new game that's going to be available soon and how to download it-"

fans love how casual you guys are about game information, like you had to teach him how to export a game character he made on the website you usually make yours on (it was for a fun stream) and it was just a simple back and forth but everyone's like omg :((( omg them :((

also if you're the type of person to go insane over tiny details in other games, he will absolutely tease you for it

like you can just be going on and on about how this game had a sentence at the start that had a backhanded meaning by the end and he's just gonna call you a nerd (genuinely thinks is cool how much of the small things you notice in games though)

dream

COMPLAINING ABOUT CODING AND HOW HARD IT IS 🤝🤝

and if you took other coding classes hoping that I'd help with video game coding he'd just listen to you talk about it

"I actually took robotics for a while before because the school didn't have any video game coding classes and I was hoping it'd help either way" "oh?" "it,, it didn't help, it's so hard to code robots and considering how fast I caught onto video game code you think it'd be easier to understand the robot code" "yeah, that sounds reasonable" "NOPE,, WHY R THEY SO DIFFERENT I ALMOST FAILED" "D:"

fanartists like those moments, if one of those talks happen expect a bit of fanart of just dream and you chilling while you talk and he listens, the art always gives off comfy vibes n it's just cute :)

offering him to play a semi-rough draft of the demo so that he could see if it's good or what you needed to do to make it more enticing for the player

power duo fr fr o/

people like comparing y'all to hackers sometimes bc y'all know how to code???

you play into the bit with the fans though and honestly it's so fun !!!

fans: omg,, hackers (affectionate),,,

you next time you stream: hacker voice; I'm in

AND THEY GOT SHOCKED??? LIKE THEY FORGOT YOU CAN SEE THE STUFF THEY POST????

wouldn't be able to watch your art streams for long because he would get side tracked, the streams are just too under stimulating for his brain to focus on, but he'd hang around as long as he could though :)

would be glad to be on call with you while you're doing an art stream – though if he has is game sounds on you may occasionally have to repeat a question that was aimed at him

you're also in his streams when you can :)

also, you like sending donations to communicate rather than chat

one stream dream turned off his donos because you wouldn't stop giving him money 💀

being friends with such a popular creator and being a game creator yourself has it's downs as well

nothing thats too hard to deal with – the most common one is actually kinda funny – some people will slide in your dms acting like they're dream and just got locked out of his account, trying to get you to make them a game

like ??? do they think that dream would mssg you over Twitter or insta?? he has your phone number bro ,😭

also!!! when dream plays through new games you made he complements the small things and complements how hard something must've been to code :)

and I'm ngl, he kinda sucks with every game he plays at first but he's a quick learner so dw :)

would be glad to help if you're having a difficult time choosing between things too! except he'll answer right away without any teasing

"dreammm" "y/nnnn" "for this area should I do like shattered stone walls or mossy stone walls like with vines n stuff?" "depends on the vibe you want, shattered stone would give it a dangerous and uneasy undertone and mossy stone would be more of ominous, if that makes sense?" "oh! okay, thank youuu!!"

ofc if you didn't have a specific vibe or couldn't choose which was better he would just give a straight up answer so you didn't stress out trying to choose one \o/

would absolutely like being a guest in a drawing stream, he isn't the best at art or character design but it's fun to see him try

maybe you both plus some friends do a "drawing Minecraft mobs from memory" stream? ,, with that the thing is; his would mostly be relatively accurate if you could understand wtf he was drawing 😭

dream may or may or have some of your art as his phone homescreen, he loves your style so much :(( /pos

ranboo

first off; he's incredibly impressed!! like!!! you made this game?? this playable game, completely from scratch??? how??

also you may or may not have made a small Minecraft mod for him to tryout on stream,, little gift from you to both chat n ranboo 🤲

its literally all based off his lore,, if you get close to obsidian and crying obsidian fallen down from Undertale starts playing, if you splash water on yourself 1) you get hurt 2) your screen blacks out and when it comes back, your in a different place than before, some things art taken, maybe a few extra things are added

and there's a 50% chance that when you go into your "enderwalk" state (the blackout) you blow something up, so there may or may not be an explosion somewhere nearby, you also have a 20% chance of building something small in you enderwalk state :)

he found it so incredibly cool!!! chat was crying while complementing you while ranboo thanked you and complemented you over n over again

he won't shut up about how cool the mod is for several weeks, maybe even a few months, it's just so cool!!

will absolutely use it as a comeback if you let him; "oh? you got first place? well y/n made me a really really cool mod, so who's the actual winner here?"

will absolutely play every single game you come out with – it doesn't matter if it's his style or not – and he thoroughly enjoys all of the games as well

as for art streams, he will absolutely try to tune in every time he can!! active in chat and donos!!

doesn't really like being in art streams – like in call is fine but actually drawing? not really, he just doesn't love drawing in front of a ton of people

but will join an art stream if you ask

will listen to you rant about whatever, even if he doesn't understand it! like will listen to you go on and on about how well a game set up the atmosphere or maybe talking about how difficult coding is, and he'll converse back with you but won't really understand yk?

"ranboo I just played a really cool game do you wanna hear about it?" "yeah yeah- of course!!" "ok so like, the atmosphere was so well put together- like it was a horror game and I didn't even see the monster but the vibe was so well put together that it was still unnerving!!" "that's awesome! how did the atmosphere get set up the best and when you saw the monster, was it scarier?"

yk what I mean? like engages in convo so you don't feel bad about talking so much, plus shows his interest without the constant "hm?" "cool" etc a lot of people do and even though he does talk more than the acknowledgment sounds many people make he also manages to almost never sidetrack you and when he does it's on accident :)

if your way of learning is teaching then he'll gladly be the person you teach it to if you want! most likely won't use the information therefore his brain won't retain it but that's not on you, and the whole reason is so you can learn, not him, so! ^^

will make sure to take care of yourself, and he has a through way of telling if you have or not bc he's known you for long enough to know that even if you try to hide it a little bit of your tired voice shows so he knows if you've been sleeping like you should

also friends with you on discord, where you have your Spotify attached,, you like listening to music while you work on things that aren't sound related and if it's active later than it should be he's going to confront you

overall wholesome mixed in with a little pain bc both of you are like "ah yes, lore <3" and like to see fans cry /lh

niki

I feel like this is expected but if you need to get extra motivation she would probably be your go-to

she hypes you up but like, in a sweet and quiet kinda way, where as everyone else here would probably be relatively loud ;;

honored to be on an art stream if you invite her :')

and would absolutely watch your art streams when she can :D hypes you up in chat

also compliments, tons of compliments!

might call you a prodigy? bc you're so young but can already make games?? and make income off of them?? and do really good art??? and so much more??? like tell me that's not prodigy energy,

if you make a video game character based off her she might cry,, like in a positive way obviously but like at the same time :(( no don't cry!!

I say might bc it's dependant on how she feels that day yk? like she might just have the almost-cry wobble to her voice or she might actually, if that makes sense?

she genuinely loves your art style!! even if it's pointy and kinda creepy she really likes it!!

yk the "awww (name) :(" /pos she does sometimes? 100% does that with you

there are a few compilations of just "aww y/nnn" on YouTube and all the comments on those videos are just crying over y'all /pos

would be happy to help if you're stuck between some options in a game, but would feel kinda bad bc it's your game, you're supposed to be the one choosing the stuff

assure her that it's okay n stuff n she'll be ok tho !

I can't decide if she would play your games or not

bc on one hand she's a huge supporter of you and your work and would like to experience it first hand

but on the other hand she isn't the best with scry games,,

so maybe she'd do both? maybe she'd react on stream to a playthrough, maybe your playthrough? or maybe she would only play some of your games? I haven't decided so up to you I suppose!

jack manifold

genuinely amazed by your talent and will make it quite clear!!

can and will go on tangents about you on stream if someone brings it up

everyone is so :(( <333 /pos bc of it

will play the games you've made as soon as he can

if there are different games that line up in a story he'll make sure to play them in order :)

people also sometimes compare you two to hackers bc you code a ton and he kinda looks like a hacker

difference here is that both of you play into the bit, it's tons of fun!!

listen, I know he doesn't draw much but I am a firm believer that he will doodle his favorite character(s) from your games after he's done playing them

like after he plays a game of yours then expect a small doodle in your texts :)

you compiled a bunch of these doodles into one picture and made it you phone background and he only found out after y'all met irl and it caught the corner of his eye and he registered "oh hey wait that looks familiar"

he found out while recording the vlog n when editing, the editor was like "hey let's leave this in, it'd be funny if the fans knew right?" ,, the fans were crying for two weeks,, /pos

and speaking of drawings; he would like to be on a drawing stream with you, thinks it's be tons of fun!! :D

and he's usually free to call while your streaming and doesn't mind so if you wanna talk to him while drawing just call :)

and he will watch the streams he can make it to!! he may leave a bit early but he stays for the majority of it

if you make a character based off of him he's going to constantly thank you and brag about how cool you are anywhere he can

"hello manifolders, if you haven't done it already go download (game name)! I'm there!" with a ss of his character from the game and he'll reply to the tweet on his alt to talk more about the game and how much he really liked it :)

another that'll help you were you need it! he'll make it into a joke before anything else, but he'll get to the point

taglist (sorry i forgot to do it on the past two): @cvsmixplant // @l0ver0fj0y // @youngstarfishdinosaur

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greenhorn-art · 2 years

Text

SanRen by Kyogre - a Rogue Cultivator!WWX fic

Title: SanRen [AO3 link]

Author: @kyogre-blue | Kyogre [AO3 link]

Fandom: MDZS | Mo Dao Zu Shi

Length: 87, 825 words | 344 pages total

Leaving YunmengJiang in an effort to curb the tensions in the Jiang family, Wei WuXian becomes a rogue cultivator.

Even without the support of a sect, he is a rare genius whose name will become known across the cultivation world and whose techniques will influence the course of a war.

However, what influences his own fate is a chance meeting that becomes the first step toward love.

Title font: Viner Hand ITC

Body font: Crimson Pro, 11pt

Loved this fic! I also may or may not have a weakness for genius![character] fics...

Pics of the process and rambling beneath the cut.

Printed and folded! (13 signatures of 6 sheets each, with one last signature of 2 pages.)

Paper used: Domtar Earthchoice Multipurpose, cream. 11x17 cut down to 8.5x11 for short grain.

Into the press overnight.

Removed from press and holes punched!

Stitched up! (French link stitching with waxed linen 30/3 thread, and three 3/8" linen tapes)

Cut endpapers to size and tipped in with a bead of PVA glue.

Paper from a pad from the dollar store. The colour and pattern are nice, but it’s thinner than I’d like. Tears and wrinkles too easily when pasting things together.

Ran out of PVA and made some wheat paste. (Flour, water, heat. So easy, so much cheaper, so much easier to get!)

Glued (using wheat paste now unless otherwise stated) and rounded spine. Added bookmark (3/8" satin ribbon) and mull.

It always takes longer than I think for the glue to dry enough for rounding...

Endbands sewn! (3 colours, embroidery floss. Core of leather cording, 1.9mm)

My favorite part! Doing 3 colours was new, and I had to redo them a few times before I figured out how to manage more than 2. (Which is exactly the same way as 2 colours. Why didn't I just try that from the start?) Went in blind through the ribbon, couldn’t see where I was putting the needle in. Thought I might break my needle trying to go through ribbon, paper, glue, mull, and more glue... but I didn’t! [No needles were harmed in the making of this book!]

[Forgot to take progress pictures from here onwards. Again. 🙃]

Trimmed off excess cording on endbands, with a dab of glue at ends (to prevent thread from slipping off the core).

Materials for the case: measured and cut to size! (2mm binder's board for covers, decorative paper for covers, and bookcloth for spine.)

Paper for the covers is also from a dollar store find, but it’s a heavier paper than the endpapers. A lot nicer to work with.

In the tea-dyed notebook I made, I've written down formulas and standard measurements for the things I bind. The only thing needing to be measured this time was the spine thickness!

The spine stiffener: tried something new.

Not liking how the spine of my last rounded book turned out (it was 600+ pages), I decided to try something new: an Oxford hollow spine. Retrospectively, a regular spine would have been better in this case, but I wanted to try it.

Measured the spine of textblock by wrapping a bit of scrap paper around spine, marking it's width. No futzing around with rulers and measuring tapes. For the spine stiffener I just used some cardstock with the grain running parallel to the spine.

Oxford hollow spine stiffener (diagram above and more info here). A is glued to B.

I glued the spine stiffener to the textblock first and to the bookcloth later, rather than just to the bookcloth like I usually do. I think that was the right way, but I ended up having a difficult time casing in. (Though that could just be because I was trying something new for the first time)

Made the case! No issues here, thankfully. Glued book boards to bookcloth, glued decorative paper onto boards. Left overnight to dry, flattened under weight to prevent warping.

Casing it in: mistakes were made.

I made the mistake of applying glue to all places at once instead of one at a time like I usually do. End result of wrinkled and torn endpapers, and a spine where bookcloth is not actually glued to spine stiffener. 🙃

Slipped in scrap paper between glued endpaper and rest of textblock (moisture barrier), put book under weight overnight.

Note to self: either use something else as a moisture barrier, or use more than one sheet of paper. Moisture still got through and affected a bunch of pages. Maybe my wheat paste was too watery?

Next day: a book is in my hands, and soon, on my bookshelf!

#fanbinding #ficbinding #bookbinding #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #wangxian #rogue cultivator wwx #genius wwx #sanren

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moxfirefly · 3 years

Text

So I’ve been working on this for a little while now after a comment @supershiny-raven left on one of my post. I present to you:

How the others find out you and the turtles are dating.

Raphael entered the Lair with you in his arms. His brothers stumbling by him, Leonardo actually tripping.

The gang had gone to drink at Vern’s fancy penthouse, a round of drinks had turned to four and before anybody had common sense he had broken out his fancy wine collection.

That had truly been everyone’s undoing.

Yours as well.

Raphael the tank had pretty much only gotten buzzed, even more so upon seeing your state he figured he needed to somehow get you and everyone else home safe and in one piece.

“Where do we dump Donnie?” April had one of his arms slung over her shoulder while Mikey had his other, they had quickly found out the purple banded terrapin was a fan of wine. “Whatever is flat and comfortable, you think you can manage him and Leo?” Raphael nudged his older brother who had dozed off while resting against the couch.

“Yeah yeah brah, we totally-“ He unceremoniously let his brother fall on the nearest cot, poor April taken along for the ride. “Shit, sorry girly”

Raph shook his head, you groaned stirring awake and tightening your hold on him. Raph was basically carrying you with one arm beneath your rear. Making his way towards his room he gently placed you on his bed and set about the task of removing your shoes. “Hey hey mister, I got a boyfriend” You squinted at the large terrapin at the end of the bed.

“Yeah I heard, lucky guy gets to put ya drunk ass to bed, where’s your makeup bag baby?” He got up when you half hazardously pointed at the dresser.

Pushing yourself up a little on your elbows you watched him gather your face creams and a pack of makeup wipes. He sat back down but next to you and motioned towards his lap. “C’mere, let’s get your face off” You giggled when he manhandled you onto his thigh and took out the wipes. Slowly and in the most excruciatingly loving way Raphael set out to wipe off your makeup. Each stroke removing foundation and eyeshadow, you mumbled something he somehow understood in your inebriated state. “Yeah yeah I got ya kid” With all the careful dexterity he developed over time, he gently removed your eyelashes.

“Somebody has been paying attention” You giggled, feeling the buzz in your body shift into grogginess. Raphael looked inside the bag, adding some cream to your face to hydrate it. He examined his work, a lazy smile as he caressed your face. It felt bizarre he could actually do this, touch a beautiful girl and do something so silly as help them out with their face routine. The two of you had been rather quiet about your relationship, enjoying it all to yourselves.

“Ya were the cutest drunk at that party” He ran his knuckles across your chin, You smiled sleepily lifting up enough to catch his lips in a languid kiss.

The door creaked open and there stood April, her own slightly drunk face breaking out into a sweet smile. The two pairs of eyes that landed on her read ‘get out’ and ‘keep your mouth shut’ slowly April backed up nodding with a giggle.

Then there was a ruckus of what Raphael only assumed was April tripping and Leo drunkly laughing his ass off.

____________

Michelangelo

Oh he was screwed.

So insanely screwed.

How could he misplace something he kept on his person so diligently?

Mikey turned over everything he could in his room, currently he had done just that with the mattress but to no avail.

His phone was missing.

His phone with that very scandalous polaroid you’d taken for him.

Mikey had nearly passed out when you gifted him the picture and to his delight he had stuck the polaroid on the back of his phone in its clear phone case. He kept his phone on him all the time, sure he’d have to be a little sneaky about placing it down but he could manage.

Now though? He was about to have a coronary.

Okay, currently in this disaster there was no trace of it. This meant he’d have to scavenge the living room.

Where his family was.

Mikey swallowed and scurried out with a silent prayer that it would there.

Raphael and Leonardo were currently watching a basketball game. They seemed pretty engrossed and perhaps wouldn’t notice that he was scouring the ends of the earth for his actual girlfriend’s literal boobs. He peaked aglance at the couch, his large brothers had to take up so much space to make it worse.

“What are you looking for?” Came Donnie’s voice from the kitchen. The orange banded turtle froze, he tried giving him a nonchalant shrug. “Just checking how I can give Raph a wedgie ya know” Donnie raised a brow ridge, mug of coffee to his lips.

“I double dare ya numbnuts, the Knicks are down ten points and I’m pissed” Raph grunted as the opposing team landed another shot and Leo sighed exasperated with the outcome. His eldest brother got up thankfully which allowed him to take a look at the that side of the sofa. To his dread but relief there wasn’t anything.

Where the fuck was his phone?!

“Hey snot face, can ya order a pizza?” Raph grumbled as the game seem to worsen, a pizza could fix up his mood. Mikey frozen, mouthing a series of ‘shit shit shit’ as he frantically looked around.

“Oh man that would fix this terrible game, can you order it with extra bacon too?” Leo went straight to the fridge to grab something to drink. “Order some cheesy sticks too will you?” Donnie asked as he poured himself another mug of coffee.

Yes all of this sounded wonderful and his stomach did grumble but

HIS GIRLFRIENDS BOOBS.

Raph had scooted further to grab his own soda from the coffee table and just as he did he saw his phone. Relief washed over him but to his immense dismay and terror, the back of his phone was facing up. Which means the clear case he had was displaying the infamous polaroid he had been gifted.

You had simply asked him one thing.

‘Please don’t let your brothers see my tits’

It all felt slow motion, his eyes going wide, his hand diving to the couch and just as he did, Raph’s quick reflexes kicked in unfortunately and he turned to grab his youngest brothers wrist. “Ya ain’t giving me a wedgie man!!”

Raph’s eyes followed Mikey’s hand and then his eyes bugged out.

“Why are there titties on the sofa?!” Raph made for the phone but only got a face full of pillow cushion. He snatched the phone before it could be grabbed by anybody else. The red banded brute grinned as his brother hugged the phone to his chest. “Advert your gaze you perv!” Mikey all but shrieked.

“I’m not the one walking around with a titty pic as my phone cover” Raph grinned, just to make matters worse Leo and Donnie had gathered.

“Mikey why are you walking around with a random porn pic on your phone cover” Came Donnie’s disapproving tone.

“It’s a polaroid” Was all Raph needed to say.

The silence that fell was brief, then a series of ‘ooh’s’ sounded off and Mikey all but frowned and felt his cheeks heat up.

“No way! That can’t be...” Leo was incredulous. The relationship between Mike and you had remained rather on the down low. It was fun, a little secret away from the world that could stay between the two of you.

“Mikey, are you and y/n a thing?” Donnie asked exactly what the rest wanted to know but Mikey dreaded to answer. He sighed dramatically and tucked his phone into his pocket, shooting Raph a glare as his green eyes followed the motion.

“Listen dudes she made me promise that nobody would see that picture and I’ve already broken that cardinal rule thanks to this jerk face” He frowned at Raph, who in turn rolled his eyes.

“Well maybe keep the picture in your wallet or your room?” Leo sipped his soda with a matter of fact tone.

“Or as a background on your phone cause honestly man” Donnie smiled to himself when Mikey shot him an incredulous look. “Why’d she give you that?” Raph inquired sneakily with a smirk.

“For our three month anniver- AH YOU DICK” Mikey huffed out as Raph began to laugh, it was so easy to trick Mikey when one played their cards right.

____________

Donatello

Investigating could take a toll on anybody, even if by all means you weren’t a detective it still didn’t mean you wouldn’t find yourself researching and investigating crime. It seems to be part of the job description when you befriend four giant crime fighting terrapins.

In away you could help, you did.

Everyone had huddled around the living room, the coffee table littered with pictures, clues and all sorts of pieces of evidence that could possibly lead to the culprit they were trying to catch. You had set down a stack of papers, eyes already screaming for a break. Leo and Casey were at the kitchen talking, Casey had just clocked out and was reporting back what the nights investigations had gathered. Raph and Mikey were checking out the pictures Casey had brought over and Donnie naturally was researching on a laptop he’d placed there.

You had nudged him to come over and join the huddle, and secretly you just wanted him close. The two of you were dating, quietly and unannounced, but in those first few stages of just wanting to be glued to one another it was a little difficult to do said glueing.

On a few occasions with prying eyes preoccupied with their investigating, you had reached over to rub his cheek, his sleepy eyes spoke greatly of how tired he felt. Donnie had been at this already for a while, you’d been there with him along the way.

With a stretch of his arms, Donnie yawned and rolled his neck. The clock on your phone read 3:45am, he was due for a nap at the very least. “Why don’t you lie down, I can keep helping out here” You reached over again and took off his glasses, he smiled tiredly but shook his head. “I’m fine, I can keep going” Despite his entire body language screaming otherwise, Donnie would always soldier on.

By the time another hour passed, people consumed enough Coffee to give themselves an additional pulse (and somebody committed the mistake of giving Mikey said coffee) the investigation had died down. A few walls were hit but a few leads had come from it as well. Everyone was ready to call it a night (or morning).

Casey yawned, twisting his neck to let out a few pops. “Okay who’s staying and who’s coming with me?” By the sounds of April softly snoring against an equally happily snoring Raph, it seemed she would stay. Casey had a few hours of sleep to catch on before heading for his next shift and you had to preoccupy yourself with the same before tackling a night shift at your job. Donnie’s tired eyes expressed how he wanted you to stay over but he knew work was closer to your place.

“I guess I’m carpooling with you” You told Casey, already grabbing your jacket and bag. A quick hug to Leo and Mikey, a bow to a recently awaken Splinter and you were next to Donnie.

He’d been sitting on the kitchen table, arms crossed and looking closer to being k.o’d.

It was the sleep deprivation honestly, on both your behalves.

Because you had spread your arms for a hug and so had he, but your face had met in the middle and before either of your foggy brains could comprehend what was happening you had smooched him.

On the lips.

For about a minute.

Minute and a half honestly.

You both froze, the awake members of the family staring with raised brows. Donnie furrowed his brows, lips pursed in a thin line, you still had your own in a kissing motion.

“Well at least we solved one mystery tonight” Spoke Mikey with a snicker, Leo nudged him.

Donnie sighed by shrugged. “Not exactly how I wanted to announce this so yup, I’m her boyfriend, she’s my girlfriend, please hold all inquires for a later time when I’m actually awake” He pulled you in again for a hug, and another kiss (greedy boy) and instructed Casey to deliver you home safely.

With a blush but albeit happy look on your face you waved everyone off.

___________

Leonardo

Keeping a relationship quiet had never proven to be so difficult. Truthfully it came easier when the circle of people surrounding you was bigger, but a close knit one? Everyone suddenly had the powers of observation up to God level.

But Leo’s ninja skills were God level too and you knew how to keep your trap shut and not sigh like a love struck teenager every second you saw him. So it had gone good, real good for a while. The thrill of maybe sharing an intimate kiss while others we’re around was a sensation you never expected to enjoy. When it was time to leave, Leo would ‘walk you’ home safely and by ‘miracle’ run into a few thugs on his way back.

Because there’s no reason a brisk ten minute walk to your apartment should turn into an hour and a half.

Raph wasn’t buying but cared little to stick his nose into it. Donnie was too busy to bother. Mikey had an idea but decided due to bro code not to voice it.

His father though?

Splinter knows what’s going on because well, he’s Splinter. You live long enough with four giant sons all with their unique personalities and traits, you pick up a thing or two about parenting pretty easily.

And Splinter is a phenomenal parent.

Both Father and Mother to his sons.

So naturally he’s irked that his eldest is sneaking out at odd hours and trying to conceal his return. Because Splinter feels that out of all four, Leo has always been the most open with him. Once Raph hit those pre-pubescent mood swings, Donnie began to teach himself all matter of subjects and Mikey was too busy trying to set a new record of heart attacks to give his father while skateboarding; Leo always remained the same.

Even with all the acolytes Leo has achieved in his ninjutsu training, he still had his hiccups and his father would never spare the opportunity to turn into a teaching moment.

So when Leo had kissed you passionately on his way out of your window, you still in nothing but the skin that he had dedicated a fair amount of time in kissing and bitting. He thought he was being slick, he thought he was going to ninja his way into the Lair, into the showers and straight to his bed.

What he didn’t account for was his father waiting up on him. A mug of hot tea on the kitchen table and hands clasps together in what Leo recognized all to well as ‘Dad Mode’.

He’d been caught with the proverbial hand in the cookie jar. His gear was half hazardously on, mask slipped down around his neck and for Christ sake he was holding a shoe. It was 6:30am and he smelled like a girl, a pretty girl no less. The jig was up, especially when his dad motioned for him to come forth and seat opposite him at the kitchen table.

“Dad I can ex-“ Splinter held up a finger and pushed the mug of tea towards his disheveled eldest son.

“My son, I am not angry” Which was truthful, he wasn’t, in fact he was ecstatic that Leo had found somebody, somebody good and somebody that loved him for he has. Long ago he had accepted the pain that his sons would not find suitable partners and the ache it would come with for them. But here was Leo, nervous and trying to adjust his clothing because he’d been with a woman, a woman he clearly loved.

“I like y/n, she is kind, thoughtful and caring to us” Splinter emphasized each trait with a tap of a long nail on the table. “She should be treated with respect, I hope I have instilled that teaching unto you, a lady is to be respected Leonardo” Leo nodded at his fathers words, he nodded and prayed that the underwear he had stuffed into his pockets wouldn’t magically transport on the table to further humiliate him.

“So please my son, do not lie to me, do not come home late in this state and not expect me to know what has transpired” Dad voice was on, coupled with the sympathetic eyes though, man Splinter was good at this shit.

Leo hung his head, clearly ashamed of his dishonorable doings. “Hai, sensei” Even as an adult being scolded by his father never stopped hurting.

“And please do tell her that there isn’t anything hide, she is welcomed in our home, I would not mind getting to know my future daughter in law a little bit more” Splinter enjoyed the way his son nearly choked on his tea.

“Perhaps I can tell her a few anecdotes of your growing up” He smiled when Leo looked at him with pleading eyes. “I believe I have a few embarrassing ones she will find most delightful” He stood up and placed a hand on his sons broad shoulder. “I’m sorry dad, sorry for sneaking around and not telling you” He was earnest in his words and Splinter bowed his head.

“I know, thank you Leonardo” He walked away, hands behind his back.

Leo sighed and pulled out his phone, shooting you a quick text.

-so my dad wants to formally meet you... as in introduce you as my girlfriend.

It felt nice to hit send on that message.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt Leonardo #tmnt Raphael #tmnt Michelangelo #tmnt Donatello #Leonardo #Raphael #Donatello #Michelangelo #tmnt Leo #tmnt Donnie #tmnt Raph #tmnt Mikey #fluff #comedy #slightly ns*w

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osakaso5 · 3 years

Text

IDOLiSH7 6th Anniversary Special Story: Full of Heart...

Chapter 1: The Greatest Show

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Mister Shimooka: The day has finally come for Rabitty-kun, beloved children's character, to celebrate its 6th anniversary with a special show!

Mister Shimooka: Welcome to Kids' Room!

Mister Shimooka: And as we look back on our own childhoods with Toi Toi Toi Company's famous mascot...

Mister Shimooka: We'll also take a peek at the childhoods of idols whose fame rivals even that of Rabitty-kun!

Audience: Kyaaaaa...!

Mister Shimooka: Here come our special guests!

Mister Shimooka: Re:vale!

Yuki: Hey there.

Momo: I hope you're excited for our baby pics!

Audience: Kyaaaaa..!

Mister Shimooka: TRIGGER!

Tenn Kujo: Thank you for having us on.

Gaku Yaotome: Thanks. Let's regain some of our childhood innocence, yeah?

Ryunosuke Tsunashi: I hope you're all ready!

Audience: Kyaaaaa..!

Mister Shimooka: IDOLiSH7!

Iori Izumi: I'm a bit embarrassed to show you all my picture, but I suppose I'll allow it, just this once.

Yamato Nikaido: Ichi's not the only one who's feeling embarrassed, but I think I've got a pretty good shot just for you guys.

Mitsuki Izumi: Thanks for having us!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Thanks!

Sogo Osaka: Congratulations on your 6th anniversary.

Nagi Rokuya: Only you will have the privilege of witnessing this special picture of me!

Riku Nanase: Please look forward to it!

Audience: Kyaaaaa..!

Mister Shimooka: ŹOOĻ!

Toma Inumaru: Let's make this the best anniversary ever!

Haruka Isumi: Hi.

Torao Mido: Thanks for having us.

Minami Natsume: Thank you.

Audience: Kyaaaaa..!

Tsumugi's Thoughts: Rabitty-kun's 6th anniversary special, Welcome to Kids' Room...

Tsumugi's Thoughts: For this show, our members had to find pictures from their childhood...

Tsumugi's Thoughts: And this is the story of how it all happened.

Tsumugi's Thoughts: Specifically...

Tsumugi's Thoughts: How it happened for MEZZO".

Tamaki Yotsuba: ........

Sogo Osaka: ........

- - - -

Tamaki Yotsuba: Welcome to Kids' Room...

Sogo Osaka: A show where we reminisce about our childhoods..?

Otoharu Takanashi: Exactly. You're both familiar with Rabitty-kun, the children's toy that took the world by storm some twelve years ago, yes?

Otoharu Takanashi: It was renewed and began its second run six years ago.

Riku Nanase: I remember Rabitty-kun! It was so popular when I was little! Ooh, ooh! I'm Rabitty!

Yamato Nikaido: The talking rabbit toys? We had at least three of those.

Mitsuki Izumi: Wow, gramps. You must've been a real Rabitty-kun superfan.

Yamato Nikaido: Superfan? Seriously..?

Mitsuki Izumi: Our parents only got us the one, so we had to take turns playing with it.

Iori Izumi: Right.

Riku Nanase: What's with the cool reaction, Iori? Didn't you like Rabitty-kun?

Iori Izumi: I have a cool reaction to all manner of cutesy stuffed animals, in case you haven't already noticed.

Iori Izumi: Besides, don't the rest of you find Rabitty-kun sort of... creepy? Because of the way he talks...

Yamato Nikaido: Creepy..? Nope, not really.

Mitsuki Izumi: Maybe he seemed scary to you because you were so little back then?

Riku Nanase: Do you know him, Nagi? It's possible that Rabitty-kun didn't ever land in Northmare.

Nagi Rokuya: OH, I do know him! I had a Rabitty Boy of my own once.

Nagi Rokuya: He could both sing and dance, and he enjoyed when I fed him carrots and pet his head.

Sogo Osaka: Wow...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Seriously?

Riku Nanase: What about you, Tamaki and Sogo-san? Do you know Rabitty-kun?

Mitsuki Izumi: Ah... Right, I guess you guys might've...

Sogo Osaka: I-I do know of him. Though I never owned one myself, I definitely remember hearing his name somewhere.

Tamaki Yotsuba: S-same here! We had a ton of old toys at the orphanage, so we totally had one of those somewhere!

Tamaki Ýotsuba: Y'know, the, uh... R-Rabitty Man?

Nagi Rokuya: Rabitty Boy.

Riku Nanase: No, it's Rabitty-kun!

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah, Rabitty-kun! What's he got to do with the show we're going on, anyway?

Otoharu Takanashi: Rabitty-kun's manufacturer, Toi Toi Toi Company, is the sponsor of this TV special.

Otoharu Takanashi: Tsumugi-kun, would you mind explaining the rest?

Tsumugi Takanashi: Not at all. It's for Rabitty-kun's 6th renewal anniversary...

Tsumugi Takanashi: ...For which they wanted to hold a big TV special where idol groups look back on their childhoods.

Tsumugi Takanashi: The chosen groups are IDOLiSH7, Re:vale, TRIGGER, and ŹOOĻ.

Tsumugi Takanashi: The show will feature not only Rabitty-kun, but many other children's toys and songs from the past.

Mitsuki Izumi: Wow! That sounds fun!

Yamato Nikaido: Are you sure our generational gaps won't get in the way? Take me and Tama, for example. We're a whole five years apart.

Tsumugi Takanashi: Speaking of which, you and Yuki-san are four years apart. That means he and Tamaki-san are nine years apart.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Whoa. He's basically old enough to be my dad.

Iori Izumi: Hush. Don't let him hear you say that.

Otoharu Takanashi: As part of the project, they've asked you to present your own childhood photos during the show.

Otoharu Takanashi: Do you all think you could do that? If it's too difficult, we can ask them to pass on you during that particular segment.

Mitsuki Izumi: It's no problem for me and Iori. What about you, gramps?

Yamato Nikaido: I'm sure I'll have tons of pictures to choose from... Even ones that don't show where I lived back then. What about you, Nagi?

Nagi Rokuya: But of course. I was all over Northmare's newspapers for a few weeks after I was born.

Yamato Nikaido: Sure, but do you have pictures you could actually use for the show?

Mitsuki Izumi: They're not so overly fancy that they'll ruin it for the rest of us, are they?

Nagi Rokuya: Hm... Very well, I shall select the most wonderful shot myself. And what of you, Riku? Will you have trouble preparing a photo?

Riku Nanase: I might have kind of a hard time. Especially if I accidentally pick a picture that's got both me and Tenn-nii in it.

Iori Izumi: Which you will not be doing, obviously.

Riku Nanase: Ugh, I can already tell that you're planning to pick a photo that matches Mitsuki's.

Iori Izumi: I'm not trying to be smug about it, you know.

Riku Nanase: I wonder which photo Tenn-nii will choose. We'll have to meet up and talk about this.

Banri Ogami: Are you sure you can all manage? Especially you, Tamaki-kun and Sogo-kun...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ah, um... Yeah, probably!

Sogo Osaka: I think I'll be able to work something out, too.

Banri Ogami: Really? If it's too difficult, then you don't have to force it.

Banri Ogami: I know both your family situations are a bit complicated...

Tamaki Yotsuba: We'll be fine! I'll ask the director of the orphanage.

Sogo Osaka: I have the contact information of one of our housekeepers, so I can ask them.

Banri Ogami: Okay, then. Good luck.

Riku Nanase: I can't wait to see what we all looked like when we were little!

Mitsuki Izumi: Same. I'm curious to see how Yaotome might've looked.

Yamato Nikaido: I'm more interested in Inumaru. Do you think his eyes were always that stern?

Nagi Rokuya: Are you asking because your own eyes are the same way?

Yamato Nikaido: Shut it.

Iori Izumi: I'll contact Kujo-san ahead of time, so we won't have any mishaps with Nanase-san.

Riku Nanase: I can do it myself!

Tamaki Yotsuba: .........

Sogo Osaka: .........

- - - -

Sogo Osaka: Pictures from our childhood...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Pics from when we were little...

Sogo Osaka: Do you think you'll find one, Tamaki-kun?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Maybe, if they've got some at the orphanage... You?

Sogo Osaka: Maybe, if my father hasn't disposed of them... I wonder how many of them we even had...

Tamaki Yotsuba: You should've told Ban-chan that you're gonna have a hard time finding any.

Sogo Osaka: ...I could say the same to you.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Well yeah, but...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Everyone else was talking about that stuff so normally, and I wanted to seem normal too.

Sogo Osaka: Me too... Even after all this time, I'm still desperate to fit in.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Same. Even though we I know I can talk about this stuff with the guys.

Sogo Osaka: I wonder why that is.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I dunno.

Sogo Osaka: It's not a problem with any of them, or Banri-san. I guess I just don't want them to feel sorry for me...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Maybe that's it for me, too... I don't feel bad about it, but I also don't wanna get in the way of their happiness.

Sogo Osaka: Right. Maybe I'm just feeling awkward, because I didn't grow up like them. I didn't even have one of those Rabitty Dolls.

Tamaki Yotsuba: "Rabitty Dolls"?

Sogo Osaka: That's right. I was only allowed to have toys that would advance my intellectual development.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So-chan, that's not what they're called. Nobody had a "Rabitty Doll".

Sogo Osaka: Oh. What were they called, again?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Rabitty Man. No wait. I mean Rabitty-kun.

Sogo Osaka: Rabitty-kun.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ooh, ooh!

Sogo Osaka: .....!? What's wrong? Did something get lodged in your throat?

Tamaki Yotsuba: ...No, no! Stop trying to pry my mouth open!!!

Sogo Osaka: It's because you made that groaning noise...

Tamaki Yotsuba: I was just pretending to be Rabitty-kun. Like: "Ooh, ooh! I'm Rabitty!"

Sogo Osaka: Ah, come to think of it, he did say something like that...

Tamaki Yotsuba: I wonder what the "ooh ooh" part's about.

Sogo Osaka: I don't know... Isn't Rabitty-san supposed to react to sounds, lights, and touch?

Sogo Osaka: Maybe he's being overstimulated to the point of excruciating pain, without even realizing it himself...

Tamaki Yotsuba: I don't think he says it 'cause he's in pain... Maybe he just can't get his mouth open?

Sogo Osaka: You think he's been gagged?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Why would anyone gag an innocent bunny toy?

Sogo Osaka: You're the one who said he couldn't open his mouth... In any case, I'll try and get a hold of someone who might know about my pictures.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Like that housekeeper?

Sogo Osaka: Yes... They might help me, so long as they haven't resigned yet... What will you do?

Tamaki Yotsuba: I'm gonna ask the director. Pretty sure the orphanage's got at least some pics of me. Are you gonna call them right now?

Sogo Osaka: That was my plan.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ok, I'll go call from my room then.

Sogo Osaka: Alright. Goodnight.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Mmh... But I might come back if my call doesn't work out.

Sogo Osaka: That's fine. We can figure this out together.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Okay.

- - - -

[Door opens]

Tamaki Yotsuba: ........

Sogo Osaka: You're back. How did it go?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ooh, ooh.

Sogo Osaka: Is that a groan of pain?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yep.

Sogo Osaka: My attempt didn't go too well, either. Apparently only my father has access to any of our pictures. The housekeeper had no idea what has become of them.

Tamaki Yotsuba: They had pictures of me, but I'm too old in all of them. Like, thirteen and up.

Sogo Osaka: They had pictures of you when you were thirteen?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yeah.

Sogo Osaka: Did they send you any?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Nope. The director doesn't know how smartphones work. Why, did you wanna see 'em?

Sogo Osaka: A little bit...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Heh. I think I looked pretty cool back then.

Sogo Osaka: I think you were probably more cute than cool. You were only thirteen, after all. I just wanted to see a version of you that isn't taller than me.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Well I wanna see how you looked when you were little, too. Like, do you even look anything like that now?

Sogo Osaka: I should hope so, since they are pictures of me.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Heh.

Sogo Osaka: I know, it's pretty funny. In any case, I did find one good lead.

Tamaki Yotsuba: What kinda lead?

Sogo Osaka: One of my father's coworkers does photography for a hobby. He should have taken a picture of me with my uncle.

Sogo Osaka: He's someone very important, so his photos should have survived even after my father got rid of every photo of my uncle.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Your dad must really love throwing pictures away.

Sogo Osaka: I can almost sympathize with him... I wouldn't want to be reminded of such a completely and utterly ruined relationship.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So if MEZZO" disbands, you're gonna delete all your pictures with me in them?

Sogo Osaka: ........

Tamaki Yotsuba: You can't get rid of all of them, though. They're all over the world, in magazines and stuff.

Tamaki Yotsuba: So you're gonna be reminded of me no matter what. Tough luck.

Sogo Osaka: ........ ...That's true.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Ah, that reminds ME!!!

Sogo Osaka: W-what!?

Tamaki Yotsuba: I knew an uncle who took pictures of us, too!

Sogo Osaka: An uncle who took pictures...

Tamaki Yotsuba: Mom liked the family portrait that uncle took so much, she kept it near our TV.

Tamaki Yotsuba: We put that picture in her casket when she died, but if that uncle's got the original data, then he can make another one.

Sogo Osaka: True. Do you know where this uncle lives?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Nope... But Re:vale might.

Sogo Osaka: Re:vale?

Tamaki Yotsuba: Yep. What about you? Can you call that guy who works with your dad?

Sogo Osaka: I don't have the connections to just go talk to him. But I know someone who does.

Tamaki Yotsuba: Who? Ah... You mean that dude?

Sogo Osaka: Why do you look so upset? He's not that bad. Not anymore, at least.

Tamaki Yotsuba: I dunno. He still looks like an evil rich guy to me.

To be continued...

#idolish7 #anniversary story 2021 #translation #i7 #trigger #re:vale #zool #other translations

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