#I would not be able to pace a whole detailed story | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tswwwit · 1 month ago

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Cipher's Personal Portable Portal Part 2

Here's the link to the first one! This picks up immediately after.

About five minutes later, with several pages of his notebook filled out and still frantically scribbling, Dipper decides this was a great idea.

Bill’s explanations are startlingly detailed, if delivered with little context and a lot of assumptions of prior knowledge. Like listening to the instructions of a master, skillfully explained at a damning pace that makes keeping up a challenge.

No wonder Bill was able to make the phone if this is the level he’s working at. On the staircase of skill, he’s sitting near the top, waving tauntingly to anyone below him over the railing.

There’s a kind of excitement, too. Not just on Dipper’s part - even Bill, amazingly, seems happy that Dipper’s keeping up, until he’s practically trying to outrun him.

And failing. Bill picked the wrong subject if he wanted to test brains. Dipper’s going to give him a run for his money.

The discussion continues longer than he expected, both lively and rapid. Demonic knowledge never seemed like it would have *that* much kick to it. At some level, Dipper kind of expected it to be primal and instinctual - but instead of delivering magic with brute force, Bill talks in high-level theory. Still practiced with more power than a human could manage. But clever.

He jots down that in his notes before he forgets. The difference between a regular demon and a really dangerous demon likely has less to do with raw power, and more on how they use it. Not so different from people, then.

Dipper pauses as his wrist starts aching from notes. It gives him space to think, and grimace.

Curiosity is great and all. But he has got to be cautious here.

Bad ideas have wrecked older, more talented magicians than him. He knows the lure of knowledge, and how easily he could be suckered into some kind of trap. Demons are simultaneously a great source of creative knowledge - and awful, in terms of tricks.

Learning one spell, though, and one he’s already mastered the normal way, probably isn’t going to hurt. And it has been a while since he’s talked to someone like this.

A person not bored senseless by talking spellcraft. Someone who keeps up with the conversation, fully engaged, without needing a primer. Who doesn’t think that ‘good enough’ is actually good enough, when you could do it better and cooler.

Their entire conversation might be more worrying, actually - if Bill wasn’t kind of a nerd.

Clearly he gets a kick out of teaching, if the enthusiasm and exclamation points are any indication. All his insights are precise and sharp, his concepts clever -

And he doesn’t dismiss Dipper’s weirder ideas. No, he has opinions on them. Loud ones.

Said opinions are also less-than-moral. But it’s weirdly fun to argue the details. Dipper quickly learns that enough nitpicking and ‘bet you can’t’ taunts turn the more explosive concepts into usable ones.

With such a strange conversation partner, it ends up going places he never expected. Teaching merges into tangents, into strange stories from Bill himself, and arguments about magic.

Eventually it leads into stories about Dipper’s own exploits. With more detail than he’d usually go into. The last time he talked work with someone, they left early and unmatched him on the app - but Bill’s clearly interested in magical freelancing. The pull is hard to resist.

So there I am in the pouring rain, covered in god knows what with an angry cannibalistic gryphon tied up in the ditch, when Jacob Jensen steps in front of the whole crowd and thanks his ‘helpful assistant’. For pulling off the plan HE put together.

And it’s not like I could say anything, the silence spell was still up.

HA HA HA HA! Oh man, you’re a walking comedy of errors. How does one human even get into this kinda crap? It’s hilarious!

But seriously, you shoulda cursed the guy. Not the kind of thing you should let your rivals get away with, kid.

Dipper rolls his eyes at the text. Another immoral solution, provided by an immoral being. He’ll ignore it, just like all the others.

Arguably he shouldn’t be talking to a demon about, like, literally *any* of this. Keeping the details of his life close to his chest. But it’s like Bill can do anything about it, either to make it better or worse. He’s a bajillion lightyears and a dimension away.

No, Bill, for like the fifth time, I don’t hex people. Even if they deserve it. Though in hindsight, I should have kept the dispelling spell charged.

Aha! There’s your problem! Not the skills, but speaking up about ‘em! Try some showmanship! Competence isn’t everything. Hell, compared to a great sales pitch, it’s basically nothing.

I guess. My great-uncle’s great at that stuff, but it never really took.

Sounds like you need a hype man! Someone who can get the word out about your talents. A guy who could bolster your rep. Hell, you could be a real star! Everyone could hear about your hero junk, including in their DREAMS. In fact - I might even have a deal, just for you!

Dipper snorts. He saw this coming a mile away. A demon would, of course, try to sucker him into a bad deal. It’s their entire thing.

He doesn’t take it poorly, though, despite the danger. Bill’s own sales pitch is clearly an off the cuff reflex, rather than a real swing at it. Like Stan pitching an ‘extended warranty’ to a customer, even when they’ve already bargained him down on the price of a souvenir.

Uh huh. Let me guess. I sell my soul, then your ad is going to be, like, ‘HEY! Hire this guy or you’ll find snakes in your bed! In your socks! In your wheat and wheat byproducts! Save yourself from snake terror and do it today!’

There’s a suspiciously long pause before the next reply.

Look, it doesn’t have to be snakes. There’s plenty of critters you can stuff into a cereal box.

The telltale tone of a conman who knows his pitch was shit. Dipper smirks.

Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll handle my own advertising. You’ve already taught me a few things about having a massive bloated ego.

Ha ha! You’re sassy company when you get worked up, human, it’s pretty hilarious! Like a hissy kitten or a dragon cub! Including all the sharp bits.

Dipper forces the smile off his face, frowning again. He’s not a kitten, for one. No matter how he sneezes. And two - that was barely a compliment, and only if the receiver is already weird.

Bill might be clever. He has his own strange charisma. Definitely a type of fascinating, intelligent monster - but he’s also evil and a jerk.

Still. He figures he’ll keep talking to the guy. It’s not like there’s too much danger, what with him literally being in another dimension.

Besides, how long has it been since he’s talked to anyone but his great-uncle about magic, in this much detail? Longer than Dipper can remember, that’s for sure. For all that Bill’s a demonic dickwad, anyone who wanted to learn complicated spells would be lucky to talk to him.

A thought strikes.

Dipper looks up from the demon phone. Darting a glance to his notebook, then back at the artifact.

Strange magic. Impossible spells. The scene of the crime, with this object buried under bits of the destruction.

The culprit was there, in the museum. And that fire he uses. It defies most known magic physics, powerful and weird. Not to mention the giant anvil incident, or the animated water tower, and half of the really weird curses, all of them requiring magical knowledge and power -

Where did Dipper’s target learn his special spells?

Thinking carefully about his words, he types out a quick question. Very casual, avoiding details that might lead to suspicion.

Speaking of company. Has anyone else talked to you recently?

Nah, it’s been a few centuries. You humans are usually pretty boring!

Grimacing, Dipper sighs. That’s a bad sign for his theory. He presses further.

So there ISN’T actually a group of people, quote, ‘craving your infinite knowledge’? A bunch of guys you’re feeding secret demon information?

Hey!! Of course I’m in high demand, I’m fantastic. But I’m ALSO not passing my number out to every mortal who wanders by, jackass. I have standards! High ones!

Dipper mulls over that statement. He’s only known Bill for a few hours, but he’s sure that teaching a human how to cause tons of chaos on Earth? Is totally up his alley.

And because he’s known him for hours, he thinks that was actually true.

Changing the topic, or filling the chat with distractions. Anything that would lead Dipper down the merry trail of another topic - all of that would be very demonic, and very suspicious.

Confrontation of a question, and one Dipper didn’t know he was asking, is a different story.

Bill’s not lying, surprisingly enough. He’s annoyed, because Dipper implied he was a… loose woman. Demon. Whatever their equivalent is.

Letting out a disappointed sigh, Dipper runs a hand through his hair.

If he’s the first human to talk to Bill in hundreds of years… Then the target didn’t ever have the phone, much less conveniently drop it at the scene of his crime. He came by his power in some other dishonest, evil way.

Welp. It was worth a shot, even if it was one in the dark. Back to square one, then.

Though what Bill said does bring up another question.

That’s funny. You’ve spent a lot of time talking to me.

Yeah, yeah, I’ll admit it - You’re fun enough! Silence is only golden when I’m in it, and even then it gets boring.

I mighta picked someone less goody-two-shoes personally, but you got brains, kid. That’s rare.

This time, Dipper allows himself to smile. He’s not so paranoid as to turn his nose up at an actual compliment.

Same to you. For a demon, I guess you’re not as awful as I thought you’d be.

Ha ha ha! Oh, cutie - I’m worse! A real bad boy, as you mortals say! Ten bucks says that’s your thing, am I right?

Warmth builds in Dipper’s face. That’s - He shuts his eyes, rubbing them briefly.

Okay. He must be interpreting that wrong. These beings are super weird. And Bill’s a jerk. Besides, he’s probably some… multi-eyed flesh tangle, or giant cockroach. Maybe even an abstract concept.

That was just a condescending comment from a condescending being, devoid of any human meaning. Best not to read too much into it.

For lack of a better response, he texts back, Shut up.

Never! Too bad I gotta run for now, but I know I’ll be hearing from you. You’re a curious guy! Just filled to the brim with it!

And I got plenty of ways to satisfy.

Dipper starts typing a response, but the keyboard's gone. The last bit of Bill’s message slowly fades until the screen goes dark again.

Okay, it’s - whatever. So Dipper didn’t get the last word in. He didn’t need to anyway.

Dropping the demon phone, he pulls the flat hotel pillow over his face. If he doesn’t see the damn texts, maybe they’ll stop lingering in his head.

God, if this is what the slightest bit of attention does to him, he’s really got to download the dating apps again. Or talk to his family more than a phone call once every few days. Talk to real, actual humans.

He’s just been on the road too long, is all. When’s the last time he had a conversation with someone that wasn’t about work? Much less a person who’s kind of. Way more confident than him, and pretty smart, with a weird charm in his tone..

Dipper slaps himself on the forehead, dragging a hand down his face. He makes a ‘blguh’ sound, reminding himself not to get distracted.

That conversation did last a while, though. Night has long since fallen. No major magical mishaps have occurred to drag him out of this shitty bed. The brief respite comes as a profound relief.

Dipper yawns, rolling onto his side.

Weird extradimensional conversation aside, he’s got a big day tomorrow. Doing important stuff. Solving this mystery. Finding the man responsible for all the trouble, and making sure he never manages it again.

If he can manage it. If he can find him in the first place. If he doesn’t get burnt to a crisp in the confrontation, or run out of money on a dead-end endeavor, or look like a total idiot by finding a guy but it turns out to be the wrong one, making him start from scratch.

A thousand possibilities of failure. A billion ways things could go wrong. Dipper shoves his face into the pillow, and tries to quiet his own thoughts.

Eventually, tossing and turning, he manages a restless sleep.

The next day’s surprisingly quiet. No major magical incidents, no screams in the streets. A pretty calm day, all things considered.

As always, Dipper goes through the motions, setting up his ritual circle and sitting in mediation. His senses creep into the thin net of magic, searching for any movement like a spider in a web.

The only way he's found to keep up with the culprit is tracing the energy of his incantations, and following the leylines like they’re a roadmap. They vibrate like a plucked note on a string, right before each incident. Tracking such a vague line is a stretch for most magicians; even Dipper’s gotten turned around once or twice.

Problem is, he has to wait until the culprit’s already cast his magic to be able to follow his trail. By the time he catches up to the jerk’s location, nobody’s been there to pin the blame on. Even the few witnesses he’s spoken to have little to report.

The upside is that said reports are very consistent. The descriptions are of a blonde man, fairly tall. Wearing a too-big smile along with too-formal fashion - and nobody is ever sure how he got in the place or out again.

It adds a few hangups, but the similar description helps Dipper’s theory. It’s the same person, every time. One or two people might agree on a few details out of sheer chance. Nearly two dozen, all with the same image, is proof.

Now if only someone knew where to find the bastard.

There are cases and monsters that are ‘more important’, he guesses. In body count, at least. Single digit deaths - even if they’re weirdly creative ones - doesn’t sound super cool on a ‘monster hunting’ resume, considering what others can, and do, get up to.

That doesn’t mean this criminal isn’t a big deal, though. Somehow, the major magic they're doing has ripple effects. One of their ‘minor’ incidents can stir up enough latent magic in the area to lead to half a dozen smaller events, weeks or months later.

Somehow, this jerk is causing more flat-out chaos than every other monster combined, by a factor of five.

Dipper knows. He’s done the math.

He sits in intent focus for a long time; a half an hour when he checks his watch after. The tracing spell is intact, invisibly waiting for something to stumble over its tripwire.

Nothing has, though. Wherever his target holed up for the night, he hasn’t moved on since.

Maybe the plan is to pull something else in town. Or maybe one of those artifacts he melted exploded right in his face, leaving the jerk recuperating, or even dead. That would serve him right.

Either way, Dipper won’t know until either a body is found, or the guy makes a move. The odds of stumbling across the culprit are pretty low.

Dipper leaves the circle set up, just in case. A couple quick cantrips later, and it’s connected to his watch. If there’s any movement, he’ll know in a heartbeat.

Though if he’s being honest? He hopes there isn’t, at least for a while. Running around in this criminal’s footsteps is a job in and of itself.

God, it’d be nice to have a vacation one day.

Dipper stretches as he steps out into bright sunlight. For the last week he’s been constantly on the move, driving on backwoods roads and through tangled cities and just. Staying up too late. Wondering what the mysterious criminal is up to. One uninterrupted if restless night’s sleep has helped his mood.

When this is over, he’s going to go ahead and take a full week off. Maybe a month. Let himself lounge around in bed without a care, in a place he doesn’t rent out night to night. Long, luxurious showers where he doesn’t have to spring out at the next notification, or figure out how to get where he’s headed next. Something nice and calm and…

Well, not totally free of chaos. Dipper could have taken an office job somewhere, or worked in the government, if that’s what he wanted. But maybe a year or so at less of a breakneck pace. Fewer massively dangerous monsters.

That reminds him. Dipper pauses at the hotel entrance, patting his pockets.

Yep, one regular phone, one demonic. Good thing, too. If anyone else got their hands on that artifact, it could spell total disaster.

He breathes it in slowly, before feeling a pang of hunger that comes with an audible growl. Skipping dinner yesterday, probably not his best choice.

The good news is, in a morning surprisingly full of it, is that there’s a diner in walking distance. It isn’t even expensive.

Dipper holes up in a booth in the corner, relieved at the lack of other customers. More peace, more quiet. The waitress fills his coffee without comment, and the bitter burn of it makes him feel more human after the first two cups.

There’s a quick beep from his phone. He puts down the coffee, reaching for his pocket - then pauses.

It wasn’t his regular notification sound.

It was weird.

Dipper checks over his shoulder, a paranoid instinct. Again it’s quiet, not early enough for the early birds and not late enough for lunch. And hell, even if most of the diner wasn’t empty, it’s not like anyone cares about a person texting. Nobody can tell who or what he’s talking to.

He pulls the artifact out. The scrawl on the screen has their old messages, plus one new one.

Hey! Bored again! Whatcha up to, kid?

Dipper rolls his eyes.

Bill is many things - demon, weird, intelligent, astute. Total jerk. Surely he has better things to do than text the mortal that ended up with his weird-ass artifact. If he knows what phones are, surely he has internet.

Still, he writes back. Maybe more boring stuff will get on Bill's possibly nonexistent nerves.

Pancakes. You?

Booo, that’s lame! I thought your life was more exciting than this! At least say something about crazy syrup flavors, I’m dying here.

Sorry, no dice. Normally my job keeps me pretty busy. but I have a nice, boring day off today. Assuming nothing goes wrong.

Now there’s a topic! We covered the problem-solver bit earlier - but I know you’re not just doing BASIC stuff, because spying on you isn’t working as great as I’d like! What kinda wards you got up? Go into extra detail! It’s totally safe!

Suddenly checking over his shoulder doesn’t feel like enough paranoia. Dipper scoots a little further into the diner booth, hunching over. It’s not every day he remembers to put up those protections. Now he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget again.

Don’t think they’re doing you THAT much good, anyway! I know what city you’re in!

Dipper sits up straighter.

Aha. ‘City’, Bill says. Not ‘neighborhood’ or ‘building’, or even ‘the backmost booth in that crappy diner’. Bill might have the broad strokes of where he’s located, but it’s far less specific than he’s letting on.

Wow. Totally not suspicious, Bill. Definitely letting my guard down now.

Can’t blame a guy for trying!

Entertain me, then. It’s not like you got anything better going on, you said so yourself! Spill the beans, kid! How ‘bout starting with a name?

Giving out his name should be safe-ish. Technically it’s a nickname anyway, so there’s not too much awful stuff Bill could pull.

It’s Dipper.

What, like a hillbilly’s tin cup?

Like the constellation, dumbass.

Ol' Ursa Major, huh? And here I had pegged you for more of a twink than a bear!

How does Bill even know those words? Where would he - actually, Dipper doesn’t want to know. Bill probably ate someone’s brains, or picked it up in some wet dream. Whatever gross method a ‘dream demon’ uses to learn about human life.

I don’t even know how to respond to that, so I won’t.

What about you? What are you up to?

Today, not much! Normally I do whatever’s fun at the time! Making nightmares, eating childhood memories, robbing interdimensional banks, texting cute guys, that sorta thing. A few other extracurriculars when I get the chance.

Dipper blinks a few times. He has to set the phone down, rubbing at his temples.

Why does his imagination have to be overactive at the worst times. He really has to get out more. Better yet, he should put this phone down, pick up the other, and start swiping right on whoever’s nearby.

Before he can even begin to formulate a response, Bill texts again.

Right now, though, I’m waiting out a multiversal cosmos disruption. Kinda like being stuck inside during terrible weather! It’s a real drag staring out the window watching the debris fly by and not even being the one who caused it.

Wow. Rampant destruction! Sounds like a totally ethical hobby.

Ethics, shmethics! What a totally human hangup. Don’t you ever have any fun?

Dipper spends a few seconds thinking how to respond. Of course he has fun, he’s got the most fun-loving sister ever, and he’s…

Okay, maybe the last time he met up with someone for ‘fun’ was Mabel. And technically it’s been almost a year since they’ve been face to face - but he still does stuff on his own! Occasionally.

Other things are more important. He can do ‘fun’ stuff later. Once this particular case is over, he’ll actually have some time for it.

Another beep catches his attention.

The silence speaks VOLUMES. Jeez, is it all work, work, work with you? You didn’t seem like that big a stick in the mud!

I’ve just. Been busy.

Busy NOT HAVING FUN!!!

Yeah, well. Some of us have stuff like ‘bills’, that aren’t you, to pay. And reputations they’re building.

The advertisement deal’s still on offer, btw! Take it up anytime!

No thanks, and a little go fuck yourself.

HA! Gosh, you’re cute. But we were talking about FUN, here! You gotta have some hobbies, right?

Nothing as exciting as ‘rampant chaos’.

C’mon, kid, I’m asking. Indulge me. Movies? Games? Bloody revenge? And as for chaos - don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it. I got PLENTY of tricks in that vein and they all RULE. Ever thrown a building on someone who annoyed you?

Dipper thinks back on the trick Bill showed him yesterday. The change and redirection. The power required…

It’s an exaggeration. Has to be. Or more likely, knowing demons, it requires some horrible sacrifice - but Dipper can see how others would find it tempting.

…Okay, I’ll admit it sounds cool if they’re unoccupied, but seriously, I’m gonna pass.

Eh, you’ll change your mind. I’m always gonna be around! You’ll take a deal one day!

Shut up. Anyway, I like puzzles? And spells and magic and stuff. But you already knew that.

And…???

And mystery novels, and action movies, and, uh. Dungeons, dungeons and more dungeons, which yeah, I know, nerdy. Honestly, a lot of nerd stuff.

I bet you’re gonna start typing ‘nerd’ in allcaps then backspace once you read me owning it.

A few seconds after he sends that, the typing dots appear, then disappear. Dipper smirks.

Whatever, NERD. I bet you’ve been ‘too busy’ with your boring ‘job’ to even kill some player characters in a fantasy game! Didja cast your character sheet in a fire and ritually burn your d20 when you gave up ALL joy in life?

….Okay, it’s been a bit, but fuck off.

Also, ‘nerd’. Says the guy who knows what a d20 is.

I know everything, kid! Doesn’t make me a nerd like you!

Says the guy who does advanced magical calculus

Oh, please. Big shot talking here. It comes with the territory!

Dipper sits up straighter. Now that’s a blatant lie. ‘Big shot’ or not, nobody delves that deep in theory unless they’re paid to or they like it.

Dude, I could copy/paste you having OPINIONS about Ergot’s Transition Theorem from YESTERDAY.

Total nerd stuff.

Bill’s furious response comes with a warmth under Dipper’s palms, and a faint blue flame on the screen - though not nearly as hot as yesterday. He snorts, watching the typing dots as they last for over a minute.

They bicker back and forth, quick and easy and - Dipper has to admit it - kind of fun. Bill’s ego is huge and he loves insulting people. Maybe he doesn’t have many people insult him back, because he keeps being surprised when Dipper has a retort.

So far - and it will be so far, by Bill’s own admission - talking to a demon doesn’t seem too dangerous.

Whatever else Bill might want, his main motivation genuinely seems to be entertainment. Nobody texts randomly about technically mundane stuff unless they're bored. Or continues the conversation unless they're enjoying it.

It's clear, under all the bluster and ego, that Bill's truly excited to have a new person to talk to. Someone who shares his interests, who can keep up a conversation, intriguing and combative in equal portions…

Yeah, Dipper sees how that would be enough to keep talking to some random weirdo. Even if it’s not a great idea.

Bill also seems to be angling for something. Dipper can’t tell what it is. It’s just a sense he has, from an odd turn of phrase here and there, a couple indiscernible metaphors.

He’s still frowning at a sentence - it came through in odd symbols instead of English - when the next line comes in.

So I take it you’re NOT dating a whole bunch of cute guys, gals, or other assorted entities, then using their heartbreak to power your motorcycle?

I’m like, 99% sure you can’t actually use heartbreak that way, and I don’t have a motorcycle. Also, no, not seeing anyone.

So if you’re trying to use a boyfriend or whatever to get to me, you’re out of luck.

Ha! Your lack of love life isn’t a problem, sapling! The opposite of one, in fact!

Dipper raises an eyebrow. Every time he thinks he knows what Bill’s up to, he finds another way to be bizarre.

Another statement it’s probably better to ignore. The questions are constant. And he doesn’t have to answer all of them. Honestly, it’s a better idea not to. Demon, after all.

But if Bill’s going to interrogate him, it’s only fair to flip the script.

I think it’s MY turn to ask questions.

Sure, why not? Go for it!

That was easy. Perhaps too easy.

Dipper narrows his eyes, but his mind races with questions. Ones he’s never had the chance to ask, things that couldn’t be found with rumors or books or even deadly personal interactions.

Getting honest answers from an extradimensional being is the type of thing scholars would have fistfights over.

Dipper, though, is handling this super well. He only has to delete a half-dozen sentences before he decides to keep it short.

Tell me about being a demon.

Like, where do you even live? Do you have a house? A den? Do you live in groups, or is this a solitary thing?

Do you guys even HAVE love lives or were you just trying to egg me on about being single.

Pfft, not ALL demons sit around in caves waiting to snag anything nearby. You must be talking about those low-level chumps! I’m way more important!

See, you’re talking to one of the top dogs in the whole biz. An infinite being of pure energy! I got a penthouse at the top level of my own terror pyramid, the realm of the mind under my thumb, a cool group of henchmen - AND I’m single and ready to mingle!

Taking that with a huge dose of salt, Dipper scribbles it down in his notes. At least half of that must be bragging. Major demons don’t just ‘hang out’ with humans, they devour them - but it’s interesting to see how Bill sees himself.

What’s it like over there? Actually, where the hell are you? Hell?

He finally asks! I thought I’d have to bring it up! And no, it’s not hell - it’s WAY weirder than that!

Dipper holds the demon phone a little further away from himself, suddenly wary. Even though he’s only known the guy for like a day, he senses the floodgates opening.

Bill’s going to brag.

I’ve got full reign of the liminal space known as the Nightmare Realm. The whole vast unconscious squished like a ripe eyeball under my thumb, AND it’s a pretty wild place to be! It’d blow your tiny mind if I wasn’t saving that for myself!

Like last week, there was this party, y’see? So I was at the bar, and - And there it is.

Demon information. Right from the source, and best of all: absolutely free from any so-called ‘deals’.

Since Dipper asked indirectly, the facts come in the same manner. Less of a list, more of a longwinded story told from the perspective of someone who always thinks he’s the main character. Dipper has to glean them through Bill’s stories for the details, rather than being instructed. But that, in turn, ensures that they’re actually true.

Well, mostly true. A significant portion of his notes get marked with a new little notation symbol he made up, just for Bill: Probably Exaggerated

Dipper’s hand cramps trying to keep up. Syrup is smudged in his notebook, making the pages stick together. He licks his thumb trying to wipe them off, then just puts tongue to page instead.

Still, it goes on for long enough that the torrent eventually slows. The more minor details repeat; the stories become less ‘what the fuck’ for demon power and culture reasons, and more ‘what the fuck’ for Bill-related ones.

Also, he’s absolutely bragging. To an extent that quickly evolves from ‘annoying’ to ‘obnoxious’, right around into ‘make fun of this guy’.

That part ends up entertaining. Bickering over whether or not Bill is a ‘big shot’, or ‘super cool’. He might portray himself that way, but there’s got to be more to it.

Unfortunately Dipper can’t argue on the cultural level - but he can match Bill’s level of sheer annoyance. People have always said his pedantry is irritating? Fine. Here’s a perfect target.

They go back and forth, over and over again. Dipper pulls as much semantics as possible to undercut his opponent’s ego, poking holes in every definition Bill tries to twist in his favor. Citing examples, where he can, where Bill could be interpreted as the massive freakin’ dork he actually is. And while he’s only about ten percent successful, it still feels like a victory.

After a particularly nice jab, that has Bill sending >>>:( without any additional text, Dipper sits back in the booth with smug satisfaction.

Nearby, the waitress clears her throat, startling him out of his triumph. With a raised eyebrow, she drops the check, giving his empty plate a pointed look.

By now it’s lunch, and his seventh refill of coffee's cold. He didn’t realize how much time had passed.

He hunches over the phone, feeling faintly embarrassed.

Look, I gotta go, but, uh. It’s been nice. Talk to you later.

Aww, what a shame. But hey! When you wanna start a conversation - tap three times on the screen, then whisper my name like you’re telling a dying man you’re the one that poisoned him!

Dipper frowns at the screen, then rolls his eyes. Yeah, that tracks. Contacting a demon would have to be in the weirdest way possible.

He shoves the phone back in his pocket, paying and leaving the diner. He’s well aware that talking to a demon is a terrible idea. That Bill could trick him, somehow, or have a nefarious plan. After only a day, there’s no way to tell what this is building up to.

But until then, Bill is useful. Smart enough resources will come in handy. Dipper will just have to keep an eye out for his real intentions, and not lose track of what he is.

Today , though, he can forget about all the chaos and the chase. Enjoying a quiet, peaceful day under a bright and cheerful sky.

This, like all things, won’t last long.

#writing is hard #Portal AU #Forgive me my love of bickering; there is So Much of it in this goddamn fic #I am at the very very end of writing this finally and it's Stupid Long #As in 40k #But I expect to have the whole thing done this month and in the meantime you get chunks as I edit #I hope you enjoy!!! I know it's very silly #But it seemed like a good premise/excuse to try something longform and also practice things I'm not great at like chatlogs and action scene #Ignore the me from the beginning of this project that thought 'oh yeah just a quick short smut'#That person was a fool and a moron who knew nothing

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sindar-princeling · 29 days ago

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3.3k word long RoP review because I'm cranky

I have already been sharing my more detailed notes from each episode here, but with this post I wanted to gather all my feelings and frustrations into something more coherent.

PLOTLINES AND PACING

It's been said before, but show has WAY too many plotlines - or rather, it has an amount of plotlines it can't manage. 12 plotlines (the broad plotline of the rings, Celebrimbor and Annatar, Sauron and Galadriel, Adar and orcs, the Stranger's identity, Nori and Poppy and their own struggles, the dwarves plus their rings plus the balrog, the dark wizard, Elrond and Durin, Numenor (which I'd say has two distinct plotlines, too), Isildur's plotline, and Theo's teased plotline with the Southlanders) doesn't have to be too many, but you have to be able to juggle them. Once again, I want to mention Lost, which started with a terrifying amount of 14 MAIN characters (and give or take five million side characters) - and while people grew to have different opinions about the show as it went on, you cannot deny seasons 1 and 2 are incredibly strong and remain some absolutely iconic pieces television. The creators took those legions of characters and RAN with them, and it was incredible.

If you only have 8 episodes to work with, you need fewer plotlines; if you want more plotlines, you need more episodes. From a purely mathematical perspective, even if you divided your time equally, with 8 roughly hour-long episodes and 12 plotlines you'd get 40-45 minutes per plotline. Then, you're left with a question: can I write a satisfying arc for 40 minutes of screen time? Can I write five, ten, TWELVE of those?

(It would have been easier, of course, if the RoP plotlines interacted with one another, but they rarely do. Usually, when you give 5 minutes of your limited time to one subplot, no other subplot gets to take part in it.)

Except, RoP doesn't divide its time equally. Nori was on the screen for what felt like 15 minutes, and in reality couldn't have been much more, because this subplot was completely sidelined; the same can be said for Gandalf, Isildur, Theo, and Arondir. To make a story something engaging, something moving, you need to either give it time to grow, or be an extremely skilled writer who can rewire someone's brain with ten lines of dialogue. And RoP fails at both.

The strongest points of this season were moments when it was focused on two, three plotlines at once, not more. That's when you could see it at least had potential to be engaging; that's when it all felt less chaotic, and like you could finally immerse yourself in the story.

Celebrimbor and Annatar

They were definitely one of the most interesting subplots this season, and the focus on it let Charles Edward shine. His performance easily the best in season 2.

It was a solid 7/10 plot. I still felt that it left a lot to be desired - I wanted Sauron's deceptions, Celebrimbor's realisation, the creation of the rings, and the whole dynamic between the two of them to pack more of a punch - but it managed to be a thread connecting a few plotlines together, something this show desperately needed.

What felt most ridiculous was the torturing scene, with Sauron shooting at Celebrimbor from a bow from a few steps away. It made me want to laugh during a moment when the last thing you want your viewers to do is laugh.

Galadriel and Sauron

I cover them more in the 'Characters' section. In terms of pacing, the conflict between them was somewhere in the background the whole time until their confrontation came, and it was, you know. Perfectly inoffensive, and just- correct.

All I'm going to say here is that the fight scene from episode 8 was written in a very generic way, and made me cringe quite a lot. The choreography felt off - it was kind of slow, and the use of the crown of morgoth made me roll my eyes a few times. It felt like it was meant to be just a showy addition to a fight, making it more "intimate" because they needed to stand closer for Sauron to be able to use it. "You want to heal Middle-Earth? Heal yourself." throws herself off a cliff where he can then easily retrieve the rings when she's unconscious remains one of the top three worst moments of both season two AND season one.

On a personal level, I fucking hate the romantic undertones they keep giving them on so many levels I don't even know where to begin.

Dwarves

Making the balrog be one of the final scenes in their subplot in season one, only to make everyone wait for it until the finale again, was, of course, nothing more than a cheap tactic to keep people engaged. All in all, though, the Dwarves' subplot was one of the top ones in terms of the amount of things I liked. I appreciate that they leaned away from the antisemitic stereotype of them being inherently greedy. The stone listeners/singers are still one of the most original and fitting pieces of lore this show came up with, and their love for the stone and the mountains shines through in a moving way. It still annoys me that the race they gave Scottish accents to is more crass and swears more than the English Elves, though. It's so, SO annoying.

I'm kinda indifferent to Durin III. His subplot was pretty standard, but the final change of heart was terribly abrupt, and the last shot with him was so action movie-y you'd think it came from Fast and Furious 15.

Adar and the orcs

Adar's subplot continues to carry some of the most original and thought-provoking ideas of the show, as well as challenge some of Tolkien's writing in regard to the orcs. It's executed in a kind of messy way, but I appreciate that it's here. I wonder where it will go now that Adar is dead, because I'd love to see more morally complex orcs, who are in many ways victims of Sauron to the same degree as other races.

Nori+Gandalf, Numenor and Isildur

Nori, Poppy and Gandalf got kinda laughably little time, and so, the subplot achieved very little. Gandalf's search for who he is was already annoying to me, but then he and Nori got separated and the subplot got split into two. In Gandalf's subplot, we got Bombadil (more on that later), in Nori's, we got a new hobbit race. The show wants the two to be a non-insignificant part of its emotional core, but devotes no time for it. Make it make sense.

Numenor was… strange. It's a political drama, but all that happened in this season was more or less: Miriel is going to be queen- jk, Pharazon is going to be k- just kidding again, it's gonna be Miri- SIKE AGAIN. It was repetitive, and the manipulations and plots were frustrating instead of intriguing. (And again - that's because there was no time given to this subplot.)

Isildur has got to be the most useless subplot I've seen in a hot second. Net zero events. Net zero emotional involvement. He meets a girl, they kiss after two days even though she's taken, he can't take her back home to Numenor. He talks to Theo once. The end. Waste of everyone's time.

The Dark Wizard

It just made me sad, because for a while there I was hoping we'd see Rhun in a different way than before, but no, it's still a Land Of Shady People. :/

CHARACTERS

Sauron

Sauron felt bizarrely underutilised considering we're in a show called "Sauron: The Things Sauron Helped Make". He's the Deceiver! His plots and manipulations should have reached the levels of Elias from TMA or S2 Ben from Lost - when they succeed, you feel so sorry for the protagonists, but it's so immensely satisfying. You are in awe of the scale of the plans they pulled off, or how often they manage to make protagonists believe them.

(Remember when you see Vader at the end of Rogue One and his entrance is just chilling? THAT'S doing an iconic villain justice. We should have got moments when Sauron is utterly terrifying, but they never really came.)

His infatuation slash interest in Galadriel adds nothing to the show apart from some truly juvenile levels of drama between them, and some terrible, generic dialogue. They would have been one of each other's strongest focuses, anyway - they're one of each other's greatest enemies. The specific kind of romantic tension they got only takes away from their personalities.

Sauron is also one of the best examples of RoP creators flattening meaningful themes and events from Tolkien's works. Mordor is not a land killed slowly and painfully by Sauron's presence, where the evil literally chokes you and drains your will to live - it was just "activated" one day! The Nazgul are not horribly twisted souls of men who have no will of their own because they gave in to the rings - they just got rings that are more evil because they have Sauron's blood in them! Sauron is not an ambiguous figure with many names and forms, many of which are terrifying husks - he's a literal pile of black goo for a while. (??????)

(No, seriously. ??????????)

Charlie Vickers managed to make him kind of okay, I'd say? But the wasted potential never stops being painfully apparent.

Galadriel

Oh, my beloved Galadriel. Oh, what did they do to you.

The complex, mighty Galadriel, who is ambitious, proud and desires power, who wants to rule a land of her own, who finally decides not to be a Queen, but a Lady of Lorien, precisely because she knows what her greatest weakness is. Who is not tempted or touched by Sauron, and no-one would ever suggest she is - her hunger for power is entirely her own.

I know Tolkien had a thousand different versions of Galadriel, but one thing she was not, was absent from her own story. RoP Galadriel's story revolves around Sauron and the rings, and her greatest ambitions were taken from her and put into Sauron's mouth in season one in one of the most infuriating writing decisions I've been unlucky to witness (also sexist as fuck). The show does not allow her to be respected, or powerful, or wise - she is at fault for Sauron's return, and treated like an idiot for it. The romantic undertones of the subplot make it even worse, turning her into a young woman with a crush who now needs to prove to people around her she can still think straight.

I hate what they did to Galadriel, and the caricature they turned her into.

I'm also not a fan of Morfydd Clark's portrayal, I don't think she fits this character, but the script choices are what pisses me off the most anyway.

There is also a lot to say about the fact she looks like one of the youngest elves, when she should be either much older (than for example Gil-galad or Elrond) or roughly the same age (as Celebrimbor). The way she's presented in RoP, Galadriel is young and hot-headed, and constantly told off by older men. NOT the feminist breakthrough in Middle-Earth that Amazon wants to pretend it is.

ALSO making Elrond kiss her… Why does she have to be put in those unserious situations that feel like fan fiction in the worst possible way,

Celebrimbor

The best character this season, mostly because of his portrayal - Charles Edwards didn't stand out to me in season one, but I truly liked him a lot in season two. The script, once more, doesn't pack too much of a punch, and leads him through some non-sensical events ("the perfection of three, thrice perfected" why does this make sense to him?), but his emotional moments hit because of the quality of his acting. Without him, this season would have been truly barely tolerable.

Gandalf and Tom Bombadil

Putting these two together because they both flabbergasted me in a pretty similar way.

I don't think the kind of plots they chose for these characters are right for them. An initiation plot for Gandalf who's already in Middle-Earth is not a choice I like - I'd love to see him learning from Nienna in Valinor much more. Still, I can see trying to portray his beginnings in ME. But amnesia? Having to find a staff because… what exactly? Having to be told everything about himself? Those are such generic choices for such an iconic character!

Show me Gandalf getting to know the land he's supposed to guard. Show me Gandalf meeting the Ents, the Elves, wandering, weaving the web of connections and friends ans allies that he always has, show his skills in bringing people together, like he does for all of LOTR.

Choices regarding Bombadil were bad, in my opinion. I've already said it, but for the sake of making it a separate post without 30984098 links - I think making Bombadil a mentor figure was strange. I don't think it works (again, talk about Nienna!). Bombadil is random help when you need it, almost like a narrative equivalent of- maybe not exactly a deus ex machina, but a small-scale divine intervention nonetheless. He appears when you need him and disappears right after, and you can continue your journey, but he won't join you. He's not a guide or a mentor.

Making him a mentor took away from how original a character he is - but the worst offender in that regard is still the fact that they gave him Gandalf's line from the books (the one about many living people deserving death, and many dead deserving to live). Once again, they were just hammering iconic quotes into the mouths of different characters and it's. First of all lazy (even if you change two words), second of all, very annoyingly on the nose, third of all, there are so many ways to subtly show characters' influence on one another, and straight up copying quotes is not creative, it's not original, it doesn't tell you anything about the character who adopted that quote other than they can repeat stuff. Did they have any feelings about it? Do they agree completely or do they add their own spin on it as they go through life? You'll never know! The only influence you are shown is: character A heard something from character B, then later said it word for word to character C. It makes character A little more than a sieve for a glass of water - they don't have thoughts or feelings, they don't transform the things they hear, they don't filter things through themself. What falls out is exactly what came in. RoP did it with Sauron and Galadriel in season one, and now with Gandalf and Bombadil. WHAT'S the point. Also I'm not sure this quote even fits Bombadil that well. He's a force of life and joy, but he has no problem with commanding things to obey him, like Old Man Willow. He's 100% a benevolent character, but probably not someone who would say "who are you to rule over powerful forces", at least in my opinion, because few rules actually touch him, if that makes sense.

HOWEVER. I did like hearing him sing all the time.

Others

Putting all other characters here, because I don't have as many thoughts about them. I love Miriel and Elendil, they have a great dynamic and along with Pharazon are the strongest parts of the Numenor subplot. Kemen and Earien annoy me so much. Nori and Poppy have painfully little personality. Durin and Disa, when they get good moments, are GOOD, but the script doesn't always let them shine. Gil-galad was good in episodes 7 and 8, forgettable in the rest. Elrond is kind of all over the place - they gave him a few interesting things to do, like brutally killing an orc to show just how ruthless Elves can be - but those things don't fit him, they should have been given to someone else. Adar saddens me because he got the mcu villain treatment where he makes good points, but then does unrelated inexcusable things so that you don't root for him too much.

Also, Celeborn continues to be "dead", and I fear to ask how they will handle his "reveal".

LORE

Oh boy, okay.

All I will say is that to each their own, but some of the lore choices simply piss me off. Why is mithril important to the Elves' survival? Why is everything about Sauron Like That? Why was Mordor created in a day? Why is the order of everything completely backwards?

The constant references to LOTR are a mixed bag. Some of them I liked ("pity will not defeat Sauron" when we know it will, the appearance of an Entwife), some of them were too on-the-nose for me to enjoy - the direct quotes, Old Man Ironwood, every time someone said "the lord of the rings", Sauron being present for the Doors of Durin being made.

I feel like the best thing this show could have done lore-wise, that would have taken care of so many issues, would have been putting most of their focus on making the world feel clearly like the world that will later diminish into the world we know from LOTR. Why make some unnecesary, non-sensical lore when this would connect your show to Tolkien so clearly? Worldbuilding is Tolkien's thing, and his world is one of the most recognisable out there. When the setting feels like Middle-Earth, everything that happens in it automatically feels more Tolkien-like.

You don't need to pay THAT much attention to worldbuilding with every author, but you absolutely do with him.

TECHNICAL ASPECTS

I don't have opinions on all technical aspects, because I always tend to focus on plots, characters and themes and am not very good or familiar with the technical side of filmmaking, so these are just some of my assorted thoughts.

I still enjoy the music in RoP; it may not be one of the most memorable soundtracks I've ever heard, but you can hear the references to Howard Shore's score (something that I learned was fully intentional), especially in the instruments used, and the "sound palettes" certain places and characters get in the process. I have no musical vocabulary so I can go on vibes only, but especially the orcs' themes feel close to Howard Shore's. It's a nice but still subtle way of connecting these two worlds.

I don't fully agree with people saying this show looks good. The costumes are still very simple, often just one layer of clothing with an added belt and some jewellery. Some characters don't change their costumes even once? I don't think Disa ever wore a different dress; at the very least, she spends most of the time in the same one as she did in season one. I'd say the costume designers weren't given enough time to work on them, because you can often see vision, but it always feels unfinished. Most of the time, armour looks better than everyday clothes, so you can't help but wonder if the everyday clothes were done in a rush.

Make-up on elven women is so modern-looking it breaks whatever immersion the show manages to build. I hate it so, so much (whoever decided Mirdania would look like that I am looking RIGHT at you and judging).

Annatar's wig was simply Not Good.

OVERALL

I feel that this show is both infuriatingly bad, and boringly mediocre; both slow, and fast and superficial. There's too few and too many things happening at once. It says so much, but it doesn't have anything actually meaningful to say, any connecting thought or feeling or motto. Emotionally, it feels empty.

It's hard to imagine future seasons being good enough to redeem the first two. And honestly, it just makes me sad.

#it's mine my own my precious #rop #trop #the rings of power #rings of power #rop critical

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writingquestionsanswered · 1 year ago

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Hey this is pretty out there but I'm a virgin who's trying to write sex scenes and my biggest concern is I won't be able to convey the emotions and feelings right... any tips?

It would be super helpful 💖

Writing a Sex Scene Without Experience

The thing about sex is it's not just one thing that's experienced one way. No one can say "write it like this" and you're good to go. The whole act--the build up, the actions, the feelings, the emotions--all depends on the specific people involved, who they are, what they know, how they relate to one another, exactly what happens, past experience, even personality and mood. And to top it off, all of those things matter for the person writing it, too.

This is why experience is really helpful if you're trying to write a sex scene, because you can take that experience and knowledge and put them through the filter of your characters' personality, mood, experience, etc. And obviously, you can't really do that without experience because you have no baseline to filter through your characters' own point-of-view.

So... that said, there are two alternatives you can fall back on if you need to write a sex scene without experience:

#1 - Get Fictional Experience - Believe it or not, fictional experience does make a difference, and by "fictional experience" I mean watching TV shows and movies with sex scenes, reading books and stories with sex scenes, and reading informational articles about sex scenes. You don't even need to read or watch anything explicit... there are various "spice" levels to all of it. How explicit you get into things is entirely up to you, so you can match the level of fictional sex scenes you experience to the level of what you want to write. Just be sure to pay close attention to build-up (including what the relationship and interaction are like beforehand), body language, facial expressions, actions, etc. (And when reading these scenes, pay special attention to word choice, pacing, and sensory detail.) Also: although I'm not going to write such a guide, there actually are writing guides out there (including whole books) that go into detail about how to write these types of scenes. You'll still want to filter the information through your own characters' POVs, however.

#2 - Fade to Black - Some writers without sexual experience choose not to write sex scenes at all, instead using some form of a "fade to black." I talk about different ways to do that in my post Non-Explicit Sex Scene. There's still plenty of opportunity for exploring the deep romantic feelings that lead up to and follow intercourse, but you don't have to worry about fitting those feelings into the actual sex act. I have a lot of posts in my Relationships: Romance master list of post that can help you with all of that.

Happy writing!

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jarofstyles · 11 months ago

Text

Azure- Indigo 5

Helllooo my loves! Here is part 5 to indigo. It's really cute I can't lie, I'm proud of this story :')

Check out our Patreon for 100+ exclusive writings and early access to the next 3 parts of Indigo.

Series Masterlist

WC- 5.4k

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

Y/N had forgotten how Harry appeared to other people.

She had been almost floating on air the rest of the weekend, a smile permanently on her face as she walked about her apartment, tending to chores and making sure to take time to look after her tattoo. She had been diligent about her research beforehand, yes, but it was even more imperative now that she kept the piece in pristine condition.

They’d been texting frequently. Once she had gotten home, he had responded back and it simply hadn’t stopped. There were pauses, warnings from him that he had a client coming in or he was going on a run, but most of the weekend had been spent texting him, giggling at her phone, getting to know him a bit more. His texting style was a bit similar to how he spoke, a bit of dry humor sprinkled in. It seemed he was a little more bold through the phone as well, messaging her with smooth flirtation and obvious interest in her stories. He asked involved questions, checked in on her multiple times, but he wasn’t overly bearing. Y/N felt like she was being hand fed bits and pieces of the man that had always puzzled her.

“So who’s the guy that had you pretending you’re not smiling at your phone?” Over brunch, Y/N’s friend Julia had caught on to her sneaking peeks at her phone, smiling to herself and trying to pace responses. It wouldn’t be hard for anyone to notice this. Y/N couldn’t be subtle if it could save her life. Once you got to know her, it was even more obvious that her feelings would be displayed out for anyone to see. A real heart on her sleeve type of girl.

Y/N hadn’t wanted to bring him up initially, but the excitement to finally dish about a guy she was actually excited about seeing- even if it was only one planned date- had her mouth almost ready to burst. She didn’t want to tell anyone in their initial friend group because… because what if it didn’t work and then everyone made it super awkward? Y/N did not do good with that sort of pressure and honestly, she would most definitely cry if someone teased her for not being able to keep up with Harry.

Julia, however? Sweet Julia was a former coworker, mostly removed from that group of friends and it was easier to dish when she hadn’t met him.

“Well…” Y/N tucked her hair back over her shoulder, fiddling with her napkin. “It’s a guy I’ve known for a bit. He’s actually the one who did my tattoo.” Lifting her arm she motioned to the ink that her friend had previously fawned over. She had a few tattoos herself and had been impressed at how good it had turned out despite some of the detail being scabbed over. Y/N had taken a bit of the moisturizer Harry had given her out after their drinks and shown her, the whole thing.

“Ohmygod- a tattoo artist?” Her friend’s eyes widened. “The one who did that one? You sly thing… did you get down and dirty in the studio? Oh my god, you gave it so good he had to see more of you? Y/N, you’ve been holding out on me!”

Y/N gaped, floundering for a moment before housing her friends with wide eyes. Her voice hadn’t exactly been quiet and she could feel the lava burning underneath her skin. She loved Julia, but she didn’t have a sense of volume sometimes. “Jules!” She hissed, shaking her head. “No! I didn’t- I didn’t do anything in the studio. No, he was completely and utterly professional and sweet.” There was a weird need to defend Harry’s honor.

In reality, there was no true idea in her mind if Harry did that sort of stuff before. With how attractive he was, she was sure people attempted it but she doubted he would actually do so. Not when he had worked so hard on his shop’s reputation. He’d told her all about that when they’d gone out afterwards.

“Ok, then what the hell happened? What is his name? Let me see him, immediately.” Her expectant hand shot out, looking at her with a raised brow as Y/N chuckled at her friends' antics- and her audacity. She was lucky Y/N loved her.

“His name is Harry.” Her voice was soft as she typed his username into the instagram search bar. “He’s a tattoo artist. I met him through our friend group. He’s a friend of Sarah’s. He did my tattoo at his own shop. He owns it himself, and he’s got a few people who work there too.” Pride bled from her voice as she pulled his profile up and handed it over. There weren't too many of him. He had a few tagged, a few photos on his own, but it was mostly his tattoo work and random things here and there. “He’s got a few awards and done a few famous people’s work. It’s so cool. He drew my tattoo up right next to me in his office, his process is so interesting.”

The girl was chirping about him as if she was already smitten, a dreamy little smile on her lips slipping a bit as she took in Julia’s expression. “What?”

“Nothing! Nothing- not a bad look, I promise.” Julia hurried to correct her face but she turned the phone back to Y/N. “This is him? The one in the black?”

It was a photo of him she had seen the other night while she did her obligatory snooping in his tagged. A tight black tee shirt with the Harley Davidson logo on the chest covered his torso and tight fitting black jeans covered his bottom down to his brown boots. His arms bulged slightly as they were crossed over his body, a pint in hand as he looked at the camera. The other hand held out a middle finger over his arm, a cold scowl on his face. His piercings glimmered in the photo, an obvious flash used. It was part of Sarah’s summer photo dump, one he had commented a simple eye roll emoji for despite liking it. Y/N’s snooping was thorough.

“Yeah… Isn’t he cute?” Y/N asked nervously. It wasn’t that she needed her friend’s acceptance. She liked Harry either way. It would just be nice to not feel a bit off guard when she had expected a squeal back from seeing him. Harry was hot, that was no question. Even if you simply spoke to him without seeing his physical appearance, it was more than obvious he was just an attractive man in general.

“Cute isn’t the word I’d use. He’s good looking but… He’s a little scary for you, isn’t he?”

While she knew that the question was most likely an innocent one, it raised her hackles a little bit. Sure, maybe he looked a little scary. Maybe he was intimidating to most. But that didn’t have much to do with anything. “No, I don’t think so. He’s incredibly sweet and kind. He didn’t even charge me for my tattoo and tried to venmo me back his tip but he’s… He’s a little shy.” It had been apparent to her when he had told her why he had been so silent around her. “He tells awful jokes and he’s taking me to a drive-in movie this weekend because he remembered that I liked the one they’re showing. He’s really thoughtful. I know he’s got tattoos and piercings but that doesn’t mean-”

“Woah, slow your roll, Cinnamon Bun.” Julia placed her hand over Y/N’s. “I didn’t mean anything mean by it. Not at all. I’m sure that if you’re with him, he’s a nice guy.” Her face showed guilt for working Y/N up, scooting her chair closer to her. “I just mean he seems a bit intimidating. You know that I’m used to seeing you fawn over more sporty guys, the cleaner cut ones. It was just that he’s different from the norm for you, babe.”

Y/N’s wind sank and her sails dropped as she realized what her friend had meant. Of course it hadn’t been meant in malice, but she still worried. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump on you like that. I just think.. I think he’s had a lot of people assume a lot of things about him in the past and it makes me weirdly protective of him. I know I’m kind of his opposite in a lot of ways and it makes me a little insecure because I know people will definitely call it out. Your meaning isn’t bad but eventually people are going to see I don’t seem to be the normal type for him.”

That was the truth. Y/N had seen peeks of girls he had flirted with or gone off to hook up with and they didn’t exactly look like her. Not at all.

“Oh, babe. I’m sorry.” Julia sighed. “No. I didn’t mean it that way. If anyone has shit to say, fuck ‘em. I was just surprised. You’ve never been the bad boy aesthetic type but hey, if he’s nice to you that’s all that matters. As long as he knows you’ve got a miniature blonde friend who’s ready to attack ankles at any moment for hurting you and knows how to hide bodies… we’re all good.”

Y/N had let it go. Julia meant well, but this was exactly why she wanted to wait a bit to let their friend group know they were… something? Seeing each other? They hadn't even gone on a date yet so it seemed to be a stretch to say dating, but whatever it was. Not until it felt steady. They’d all worry over her and warn Harry off when in reality, all he had done in the past was be anxious and let Y/N read him wrong.

She wanted to protect him from the ribbing and the questions and let them get to know one another in a more intimate way privately. It would be something she would have to bring up to him later…. But how?

—-------------

H: Hi, gorgeous. What are you up to?

Y/N: Hi hi :) Just got done making cinnamon bread.

H: And are you bringing me a piece of that tonight?

H: Please say yes or I’ll probably cry.

Y/N: Of course, crazy. What do you take me for?

H: A goddess, if you continue bringing me baked goods.

H: But please remember that there is a snack counter there and I will be happy to buy you whatever you want from there or pick up something beforehand.

Y/N: I really can pay for some of it myself. I feel a little bad making you pay for everything, you’ve already got the tickets.

H: I’ve got the tickets and more. If I’m taking you out, I’m paying, sweetheart. Nonnegotiable. Your payment can be some of that bread, if it makes you feel better.

H: I’m just happy you said yes and are giving me a chance after I’ve made an ass of myself.

Y/N: H :( no

Y/N: You didn’t mean to make me feel bad. I internalized it and maybe you need to work on communication a bit but honestly, It’s all water under the bridge!!! I’m really really excited to go out with you.

Harry ran his hand over his face. His wrist ached from the 6 hour session the day prior but he was more than a mess of nerves now that the time for their date was almost here. He vacuumed out his car, cleaned it, sprayed with some sort of spray, and replaced the little vent air freshener. The whole thing. His range rover wasn’t ideal for this sort of thing so he had chosen his vintage convertible. The bench seat could lay back and provide more lounging space- and that’s exactly what he had wanted.

This had been his first dream purchase once he started making more money at his shop. As soon as he finished his car payments on the Range Rover, he had set his sights on a vintage car to cruise around in by himself during the warm nights, a good sound system having been modified in it so he could lose himself in thought while driving down the coastline. This car was his baby. Soft yellow exterior with a pinstripe detail, the smooth car appealed to him immediately. He’s spent months scouring sites and driving to look at different listings but this one had his heart immediately. There hadn’t been too much to change on it, but he had made his personalization with black and white fuzzy dice hanging off the rearview mirror, said sound system, and refreshed seats. The car had been his reward for the hard work and his endless backaches from being hunched over tattooing.

It had been a no brainer to choose this one but he did worry about if Y/N would think he was being overly flashy. Harry had never been one to show his money off to the masses, instead choosing to invest a lot and keep everything quiet. He’d seen some friends, seen his own clients even complain about how people used them for money and with the concept being newer to him, he wanted to be responsible. He’d read too many financial horror stories on reddit to risk it. His mates guessed he made a decent amount considering how much his minimum was and how picky he was with clients, and sure he picked up the tab a lot without saying who did it, but he tried to keep himself a bit guarded with that. He hoped that if this continued with Y/N- which god, he was praying it would- she wouldn’t be upset with him keeping that a bit of a secret.

To be honest, he was overthinking every single thing. Despite appearing cool, calm and collected in his texts, he had felt like his thoughts were running out of his head at max speed. Realistically, he knew Y/N wouldn’t have said yes if she didn’t want to. She’d have been more than justified if she had, but somehow Harry must have done something right to get the karma to have not only her forgiveness, but her affection. Even the slightest bit.

Triple checking his outfit, he had felt silly brushing his overgrown hair out of his face but still made sure that there hadn’t been some miracle stain that showed up on his tee shirt or new rip in his pants. There wasn’t, as suspected, and he finally made himself leave the house. The car had the blankets folded in the trunk, along with the two oversized pillows he had purposely chosen despite being a bit chunky. They were straight off his bed, the best ones he had ever found. The plush purple blanket was oversized, a steal from a liquidation store he went to just to feel like he could ‘treasure hunt’ was big enough to cover the seats, and he had a few different ones for Y/N to choose from in the back.

Was she a faux fur blanket girl? Linen? Crochet? Plush? Velveteen? Another obscure but endearing thing he wanted to carve out of her.

The drive to her place consisted of Lana Del Rey and the top up of the car. It was obvious it was a convertible but he was trying to keep the warm breeze as a shared experience for them both tonight. The real nerves had hit outside of her stairs, his phone dipped back in his pocket once she had told him she was on her way down. His palms were sweating, a constant reminder of himself to not fuck this up playing on a neverending loop in his head.

The world went quiet for a moment, though, once Y/N opened the door and shot him a smile so sweet that it almost hurt his own teeth.

Every time he saw Y/N he had been in awe of her beauty, but it hit a little different now. She had dressed up for the purpose of going out with him. Her lavender colored dress with slightly puffy sleeves, casual as ever with its soft looking fabric, but seeing something like that on her was bringing it to a new level. It swished on her thighs, brushing an inch or so above her knees. Sandals were on her feet and a cream colored oversized bag that resembled one he brought to the beach was hung over her shoulder, snapping against the pavement as she descended the stairs and made her way over to him.

“Hi!” She chirped, eyes sparkling slightly in the afternoon sun. Sunset would happen in just 30 or so minutes and he had to wonder how his brain would handle seeing her in a golden glow in his car. On a date with him. “You look really handsome, H.”

It was so opposite what people would assume of a man with his general outward demeanor and rough around the edges appearance. His cheeks heating and having to swallow a lump in his throat to unknot so he could reply to a simple compliment, you’d never expect it. Harry liked that maybe only Y/N would be able to uncover a part of him he kept hidden to protect himself from hurt. The iron armor he kept guarding his heart seemed to melt to molten metal when she reached up to take a hug from him. She smelled so fresh, like laundry in the best way. The warm type right out of the dryer, unsullied from any possible contaminants. She smelled brand new, a start over for him.

“You always seem to outdo yourself in how gorgeous y’look when I see you.” His guts had returned when he was hugging her, unable to see her reaction. Somehow, Harry could remain stone faced when drunk people came in demanding ink, when he’d gotten in fights at bars during that rougher period, but he couldn't control himself around a soft little doe of a girl like Y/N.

“Thank you.” She grinned, pulling back with her eyes finding his until her attention was stolen by the car behind him. “Oh my god… Is this a new car?”

Pride bloomed in his chest as she fawned over his car, one of his prized possessions that she was slightly bouncing on her toes as her hand ran over the hood. This was the reaction he had been hoping for. “Well, technically it’s an old one.” The joke was cracked with a smirk, making Y/N laugh and his chest feel full.

“No shit, funny man.” Her hand pushed his bicep. “I mean, when did you get it? I’ve never seen you drive this, just your Range Rover.”

“It’s sort of a special occasion car. Drives down the coast mostly, sometimes car meets if Niall finds one and tells me to bring it. I got it a while ago but the other car is more practical so it stays in the garage while I put the milage on the other one.” He placed a hand on the handle to open up her door, letting her take a look inside. “It’s really special to me. I try t’be careful with her.”

“Her?” Y/N rose a brow as she sat herself in the seat, wiggling around as she got comfortable. “Should I be jealous?”

Her own flirty jokes made Harry relax a tiny bit more. He wasn’t the only one feeling this, and it made him feel a whole lot better to hear it from her. “No, no. She’s got nothing on you, darling.” With a wink, he closed her door and jogged around to his side and patting himself on the back for not choking at the response he just gave.

—---

Y/N’s own body was buzzing with nerves. Sitting in this fantastic car that she knew her grandfather would absolutely lose his head over, Hozier’s ‘Abstract’ played through the radio and her hair was fluttering around as Harry drove through the streets towards the destination. The sun was warming her cheek, hand dipping up and down as she let the wind pass through her fingers. There was some chatter but mostly a silence that Y/N found to be quite comfortable. Harry wasn’t an incredibly talkative person in general but he seemed to be a lot more open when it was just the two of them. She was enjoying this, the overall energy pretty good- a bit nervous and giggly but what first date didn’t start off like that?

“How did you even find out about this?” Y/N turned to look at him as they waited in line to park his car and let them scan the code he had open on his phone. “Like, I didn’t even know there was a drive-in so close to us. I still feel like a newbie here sometimes but.. It was really thoughtful. I never thought I’d get to see this one on a big screen since it had come out before I could have watched it.”

“I remembered you liked that movie we were seeing when I was scrolling down instagram. It was weird, I knew there was one but I never interacted with anything about it so… The algorithm must have helped me out.” He laughed, running his thumb over his lower lip to hide his smile a little bit. “I know people normally would say a movie on a first date would be a little eh, but we know each other a little and it’s your favorite. It’s outside, too. Anything is ten times better under the stars.”

Y/N loved that. That was true, but for someone who had been so nervous to speak to her before he was sure as hell doing a good job finding all the soft pleasure spots in her brain and stroking them. Clicking off things on her mental list she didn’t know she had. “I’m glad it did. I’m excited, especially with a car like this, it’s incredible. You did a perfect job picking this out.” Truly, he had plucked a dream scenario from her romantic underbelly and brought it up to the surface.

“Good.” He smiled, pulling up to the person scanning their tickets. It was pay per car, so it hadn’t been too spendy, but Harry was more than going to make up for it. His relief was clearly lifted off his shoulders as she expressed her approval of his choice. He’d probably fall on down the sewer if she hated it.

Their spot was a place in the middle and towards the back. There were only about 50 spots, and they had definitely been a bit fucked with traffic but at least they werent in a corner. Cutting the car off, he took a breath before turning to her. “We’re gonna pull the top down and uh, the bench seat flattens out. So it can be easier to stretch out.” He flexed his hand around the gearshift, watching as her face brightened. “I’ve got loads of blankets in the trunk and two pillows too. M’not trying to be suggestive but it’s easier to get comfortable.” Harry wanted to make this the most memorable date- in a good way. The knowledge of the fact he knew for a fact other guys in the group fancied her and could talk to her without seeming like an ass used to make his stomach hurt, but it was such a relief to have her with him now. She was way too sweet and understanding but he adored the fact that she had particularly chosen him to go out with. Y/N wasn’t a prize, she wasn’t an object, but he felt like he was a winner for getting to spend time with her.

“Here-” He took his wallet out and slipped one of his cards out. “Go and get whatever you want for the movie and we can get proper food after.” The cool plastic was paced into her palm, his fingers closing her own around it so she didn’t drop it. “Whatever y’want and I mean it. They’ve got those chocolate bars y’like, I saw online. Buy the whole candy case if you want. I’ll get this fixed up and meet you over there to help carry it.”

Y/N wasn’t going to argue, her jello like knees shaking as she walked over to the retro shack. It was unreal. Harry had seemed to put a lot of thought into every step. His mention of knowing her favorite chocolate was there and that he’d remembered it even just having heard it in a very tipsy conversation she’d had with Charlotte with Harry ‘glaring’ at her across the table. Apparently, he had just been focusing on her answer and not wishing she would drop dead. Who’d have thought?

Rocking on her feet, Y/N looked over the menu and made her mind up pretty quickly- an absolute miracle for her- as soon as she saw the selection of drinks. Usually she wasn’t a carbonated bev type of person, but when she saw you could add little flavors into them, she was more than happy to order a sprite with strawberry flavoring. She had only been a few places where they’d done so before, so she was taking it. She went with a Root Beer for Harry and another bottle of water to split, a large popcorn and a side of the cheese sauce that she lovingly called plastic cheese like her mother always had. As much as she was tempted, she chose 3 things of candy. Sour, sweet and chocolate. The array.

Swiping his card felt a little wrong but secretly, she was happy that he had insisted. There had been many a date where the man hadn’t even offered, or who thought buying a lackluster meal meant he should have access to her body. While she didn’t need him to pay, the gesture was what she liked. Harry had been nothing but respectful once he had actually opened his mouth to talk to her.

Placing the lids on the drinks, she had placed them on the tray but frowned slightly at the idea of walking across the field balancing them and not dropping them. Thankfully she felt a large hand on her own as the tray had been swiftly taking into his grip. The tray that had seemed ginormous in her own hands looked small in his.

“Told you I’d come to help. You don't need to be carrying it.”

Again, Y/N didn’t feel like arguing as she let him lead her back to the car, his lack of clumsiness making her look twice as bad. She’d stumbled three times, the uneven terrain making it a little difficult with the dents the cars had carved into spots in the lot. Thank the sky above she had let him take it. Her mind had been on that but was taken out of thought when she saw the set up. It was so cute, Y/N almost let out a coo as she watched him place the tray on the close trunk. It had been set up like a bed, three blankets overlapping each other on top.

“Didn’t know the kind of blanket you liked so I brought a few.”

If he got any more adorable, Y/N would lose it.

“You did? That’s so sweet, H.” She whispered, slipping her shoes off as he opened the door to let her get in easier. There was no way she was about to mess up the thing he had put so much thought into. Her eyes went to the plushy one, lifting that one as Harry removed his boots. “I claim this one.”

Harry added the blanket preference to his Y/N list mentally.

“Perfect.” He nodded. “Did you want to share or do separate ones?”

The days were perfectly warm, but since the sun had been setting the cool night had been settling over the place. It got nippy, and Y/N was selfish and curious. “Sharing is fine.” She peeped, spreading it across her lap and holding it open for him. This would bring them closer. His thigh was near hers, sitting sprawled out as he carefully balanced the tray to sit in front of them.

This was just… good. Harry was obviously a little nervous still, but Y/N was laughing at his jokes, she had been interested in what he had to say. It wasn’t the fake half assed listening most people did. She asked detailed follow up questions and laughed at the right times, especially when their hands met when trying to grab some popcorn as the trailers before the move began.

They were shifting closer to one another, slowly allowing it to happen until Harry suggested laying back. The popcorn setted between them, He put a second blanket on them when he noticed her shiver slightly. Y/N was trying to figure out how to ask to cuddle with him without asking outright, but it was hard. All he was doing was being respectful but she wanted to be closer to him, wanted his arm around her and the cold to disappear. It felt like everytime they brushed that she got pleasantly flushed.

“Y’cold still?” Harry whispered, another shiver getting his attention. He didn’t need to know it was from his hand brushing the popcorn from her thigh over the blanket.

“Yeah, I run cold” She said softly. “Can we get closer? Body heat is a bit better.”

Harry loved it. Her innocent expression but obviously wanting to get closer, to be held by him specifically. “I’m never going to say no to having’ you close to me, sweetheart.”

His arm was lifted and she ducked underneath, his body turning slightly on his side so she could get close and lean into him, the blankets pulled to their chins and his hand falling to her arm where he began to run his fingers over.

Y/N wanted to squeal, but she settled for a happy little wriggle disguised as getting comfortable. He was indeed much warmer than blankets, but his fingers running over her and her cheek pressed against his shoulder with his body heat leaking through his shirt made her warm right in her stomach. His touch felt so good, comforting and exciting all at the same time. So far, this had been the best date she had ever been on and it really had just begun.

—------

Y/N was so beautiful.

Harry had been paying far too much attention to the girl curled up against him like a little kitten. Purring as he stroked her bare skin once his fingers had gone under the blanket for her. The screen illuminated her face as she watched her movie, his lips watching her lips as she silently recited lines and giggled at the right moments. He was learning a lot just watching her reactions. The yearning on her face during the softer romantic scenes, what things got little giggles, what made her cringe. How long her eyelashes were and how her nose curved, the tiny marks on her face he had never seen.

This was the type of date he had always wanted to have. To go out with a girl he genuinely liked, who saw more of him than met the eye, who wanted to get to know him. Someone who could make him loosen up a bit. He’d not had any goals for this besides having her enjoy herself and hopefully grow to like him more. Enough to give him a shot of dating her. It made him realize how his past in bed hadn’t made him feel a fraction of the excitement or even pleasure that this did. Simply sitting with a girl he had a massive crush on holding onto his shirt, watching her beauty in real time. There was no feeling of rush with her. As much as he was truly attracted to her, he was happy with this. Maybe a kiss or two would throw him over the moon. Just being in this scenario felt like a dream come true.

He was sure the movie was great, but the vision in front of him was far, far more interesting to him.

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themattress · 11 months ago

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Untitled Kairi Post

Y'know what? In a way, Kairi was tragically doomed as a character from the very beginning.

"Oh, because she was a love interest and damsel in distress!"

No. Myths, fairy tales and, well, Disney movies have used those tropes for ages, and if you're doing a story where a huge point is the influence of those things, it's kind of a given that the leading lady be a love interest and damsel in distress. And the writing is smart enough to put a twist on the trope given that Kairi's distress is much less than it appeared to be because she's Sora's love interest and he's her's, and after Sora saves her she saves him right back.

"Oh, because she wasn't a playable character or party member!"

No. It would have been nice to have the playable puzzle solving-based Kairi sequence they initially planned at Hollow Bastion, but I can understand why it was removed given how it would slow down the pace following what is perhaps the signature sequence of the game. And in any case it doesn't have any bearing on how things went for the rest of the series, given that Riku also was not a playable character or party member (he just had a crappy AI when pretending to help you fight Parasite Cage all so that he could kidnap Pinocchio).

"Oh, because she was stuck in a coma the whole game!"

NO! God damn it, how much must the game beat the point into your stupid head!?

And who could forget?

Stop laughing right now.

Kairi. Not just "her heart". KAIRI. Since the heart = the person.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, it exposes some serious sexism if one goes with the "Kairi was in a coma" line for KH1 and yet says "Ventus was inside of Sora" post BBS, since it's literally the exact same situation except that Kairi was always awake within Sora's heart as opposed to Ventus only waking up at the end of 3D. It's why Sora felt things regarding Hollow Bastion, why he experienced the memory of Kairi and her grandfather, and why he saw and heard Kairi multiple times. He wasn't hallucinating; that was always really her.

So, enough beating around the bush. What did I actually mean, then?

Well....let's start at the beginning.

Kairi's arc in the original Kingdom Hearts is not just told through the writing. Utilizing a video game as a visual/audible medium, it is also told through animation, voicework and music. During her introductory cutscene, we see Kairi asked by Sora if she remembers the world she was born in before being sent to Destiny Islands. "I told you before. I don't remember." She answers this sincerely. "Nothing at all?" Sora responds. That's when we see this detail.

"Nothing." Kairi is lying. She doesn't remember everything given the trauma caused by being forced out of her old home, but she does remember just enough to understand why it was traumatic. She had a comfortable life there, and a family. She was happy. And then it was all gone in an instant. Now, on Destiny Islands, she is similarly content ("Well, I'm happy here.") and fears risking that same loss. And yet a small part of her still yearns for the past. She loved what she can recall of her past, as she loves her present. She fears only the future.

Riku's fixation on his existential woes and the mysteries of the universe, while also putting her up on some sort of pedestal like she's something special, is not helping at all. Something about it feels wrong to Kairi...wrong and uncomfortably familiar. It's making her very anxious.

But Kairi has someone to lean on and help her keep up an optimistic, cheerful front, perhaps enough to talk herself into believing it: Sora. And during this scene, we hear the track "Kairi I":

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This track reflects Kairi's character in this moment. While there is a subtle undercurrent of worry, her heart is strong enough to not let it get to her and look on the bright side as she looks out to the sun setting over the ocean. With Sora's reassurance, she is able to feel as though her home and friends won't change or go away no matter what happens on her, Sora and Riku's planned voyage, which allows her to feel anticipation for it. All finally feels right.

Of course, things were not right, and Kairi ended up in heart form as her body and soul were lost to darkness along with Destiny Islands. From Kairi's POV, she is now in the Station of Awakening (aka Dive to the Heart) and can do little but watch Sora's adventures as she can see them through his eyes, not fully putting it together why she can and where she truly is.

In the scene at Merlin's House, we get to hear "Kairi II".

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While it's similar to "Kairi I", there is now a more somber and mysterious feel to it given the present circumstances. While she doesn't know if Sora can hear her, Kairi wistfully waxes nostalgic over how Merlin's House reminds her of the Secret Place on Destiny Islands. And while Kairi feels sad over missing that place, she's also happy that there are places like it elsewhere in the universe. She's clearly learning as much from Sora's journey as Sora is.

Finally, we hear "Kairi III" in the flashback with little Kairi and her grandmother.

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And while it starts out reflecting Kairi's childhood innocence, it ends up turning...almost sad. The reason why being one of the most overlooked details of the scene: at the end of the grandmother's story, she disappears, and little Kairi is shown moving her head all around looking for her. This isn't actually part of the memory, but a reflection of Kairi's heart. She knows that she had a grandmother and that her grandmother isn't here anymore, but she can't remember how her grandmother "left". But she at least still exists...within her heart.

Speaking of which, once Kairi's heart returns to her body and Sora loses his heart in the process, Kairi puts her foot down. She may have learned how to better deal with and accept change and loss, but a line still has to be drawn somewhere and Sora is that line for her.

Thus is she able to save him. Later, we see her worry about the future and things changing again when she questions whether anything can be the same between her, Sora and Riku again after the corruption Riku had underwent. Once again, Sora boosts her optimism.

More importantly, he helps her learn, as he does, that even when separated you can take strength in keeping your loved ones (metaphorically) in your heart, and that even if things change and Kairi is cut off from the people and things she loves, they will always exist within her heart, just as with her grandmother and the story she told her about light and darkness.

This is why, in the end, Kairi is able to let Sora go and yet still feel content.

From "Hikari" (JP):

I'll stop doing pointless things like thinking about the future. Today I'll eat delicious things. The future is always before us, Even if I don't know it.

From "Simple and Clean" (EN):

Regardless of warnings, the future doesn't scare me at all. Nothing's like before.

This is a really good, really well done character arc.

It's also a very human character arc.

Yes, there are a lot of fantastical things going on, but when you put all of that aside, what are you left with? A young girl moves away from her old home and everything that she ever knew and loved, which gives her anxiety about the same thing happening with the new home and everything that she's come to know and love from it, which now includes a certain boy. She fears the future; she fears change. In the end, she ends up staying in her new home - but the boy moves away! However, through her time spent with him she's learned to accept this because he'll always be a part of her heart, which is something that won't ever change.

When put that way, it sounds positively mundane, and by and large the KH fandom - and Tetsuya Nomura himself for that matter - don't want or like mundane stuff like that. They want the crazy, the overdramatic, the angsty, the flashy, the anime tropeyness they're familiar with. This is why they were unreceptive to Kairi's arc to the fullest degree, as in many of them are literally unaware it even happened because they were too busy fixating on the archetypal Japanese media-style dick measuring contest between Sora and Riku (which is also far deeper than they tend to give it credit for, btw, but I digress). And if that's the case, then the question gets raised: why bother focusing on or expanding Kairi at all? She doesn't "sell".

THIS is why Kairi was doomed from the start. It's not her fault. But it's sadly the truth.

#Disney #Square Enix #Kingdom Hearts #Kairi #Opinion #Analysis #Kairi Deserved Better #This has been a PSA

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bigtreefest · 8 months ago

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Chapter 5: From the Ground Up

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: It’s time for Bucky to take charge in your absence.

Word count: 4,065

Content/warnings: Interrogation, restraints (not in the sexy way), allusions to violence, swears, name calling, pet name usage, female reader, kissing, horseback riding?

Author’s Note: I REALLY loved writing this chapter. This is where we start to see the other storylines of the Outta Nowhere AU emerge, so keep an eye out as those get released.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky was mad-no, he was seething as he paced back and forth in your home office. It was in the wee hours of the morning when his private jet had landed on the local airstrip. Within that same hour, Sam had personally escorted in the little nerd responsible for a good third of the turmoil going on in Bucky’s head: Jake.

Sam had taken the liberty of pre-binding his hands and duct taping his mouth shut. Bucky was going to enjoy ripping the goatee straight off his mousy little face.

Five hours ago

As soon as Steve had gotten off the phone with Bucky, he called the construction crew. They kept them on call for things like this, but the two of them never thought the stakes would be this high. It wasn’t often that someone important and non-expendable was put in this type of danger, let alone someone Bucky cared about. As he was finishing up the call and directing them towards your house, Sam reached out to him with a sticky note.

On it was a name and the address to an apartment in the city, along with Sam’s scrawled ‘pick her up on your way over.’ Steve nodded as he hung up his call and placed another, grabbing the duffel bag he kept packed by the door and heading out.

Three Hours Later

Bucky hadn’t left your side since the rocks collapsed. Luckily, the two of you had been able to find a small gap in the rocks where you both sat. It wasn’t large enough to keep air circulating, but it was big enough to at least allow the two of you to talk with each other. You and Bucky had shared so much, from him sharing his first business operation with Steve, to you detailing crazy college stories of when you, your roommate, and Curtis would hang out.

Bucky laughed along. There was a whole side of you he never knew. He had studied intently what showed up on paper, and he knew the hardships you’d faced from your deep conversation last week, but this? This was a whole new, more playful side. He was surprised to see your spirits so high despite the situation.

“I do not believe that one bit. No way you were climbing up clock towers at school just to steal the clock hands, or a random brick or whatever. You’re too straight-laced.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes as you leaned your head back against the stone wall. “Oh please, people already pay so much to go there, if anything, I had more than the right to do it. Our money pays for that stuff. Technically we owned it. Not the school.”

Bucky snorted. “You didn’t even pay tuition. Didn’t they pay you to go there?”

“That’s besides the point, Bucket. Fight the man. And anyway, if you think I’m straight laced, you should meet my roommate.”

Bucky grimaced. “Yeah, about that. She’s on her way here right now.”

Your ears perked up. “Decks is on the way? Oh, that’s good. She’ll be super helpful. She’s so organized, although, I can’t imagine she took well to whoever had to interrupt her beauty sleep. Who’s the poor guy?”

Bucky sharply inhaled. “Steve.”

“Oooo hooo hoo.” You laughed. “That’ll be a fun one for both of them. They’re either gonna love or hate each other. What are all the rest of the ETAs?”

Bucky looked at his watch. Well, really, he had been checking his watch this whole time to monitor his pulse, which was over 100 consistently since the tunnel buckled. He was shaking with concern for you, but kept his voice level to keep you calm, a trick he and Steve had worked tirelessly to master. “Ummm… looks like the construction crew should be here within the hour. And I’ll bet Decks and Steve will be pulling up any minute.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. “Anyone else coming that I should know about? So I can figure out where they’ll best fit around the farm? Decks is great with the animals.”

You hadn’t heard all of Bucky’s or Curtis’s phone calls earlier since they stepped out of the cave to make them with better reception. Bucky didn’t want you to know Jake was on the way, mostly because he knew you’d make him promise not to hurt the rat, and he didn’t want to have to make that promise with the high likelihood it would be broken. He decided a better move would be to change the subject.

“So where did the nickname ‘Decks’ come from anyway?”

“Oh! Well it’s actually-“

Bucky heard footsteps near the mouth of the mine. He did his best to politely cut you off. “Wait, Honey, I’m so sorry, quiet for one second.”

He sat there and silently listened, the rustling becoming closer and clearer until he identified it as hooves clopping gently against the soft ground. He heard Curtis’s voice say something vaguely before he moved to get his feet underneath him and brush off his pants.

“I think Curtis is here with Steve and Decks. I don’t want anyone else to come in, just in case it’s still too unstable. Can you tell me exactly what you need them to do?”

You nodded, even though you knew Bucky couldn’t see it and began to lay out the instructions. Decks and Steve weren’t here to clean out the tunnels, they were here to help keep the farm running until you were freed, and no one knew how long that would take. It was best to keep only those who could be closely trusted around until this was all figured out. God forbid the authorities come knocking, or worse yet, Cole. Bucky held onto your every word before briefly leaving the tunnel to relay the information.

Bucky returned to you shortly after instructing Curtis to take Steve and Decks back to the house so they could rest before their long day tomorrow. Everything needed to run as smoothly as possible to not raise suspicion from your absence, which they were going to claim was due to a corn crop farmer’s conference out in Iowa if anyone asked.

After another hour with you, Bucky let you know the construction company arrived and was starting to stabilize the ceiling so they could dig you out. “I’ve gotta go deal with some business, so I’ll be back soon. Plus, I can’t get in the way of these vehicles. But say the word to one of the crew and I’ll be back here in a minute flat. I promise.”

Bucky’s promises meant a lot. That was something you had learned in your conversations. He never said something unless he had a plan to deliver. A man’s word was everything in his line of work.

“Okay, I’m going to hold you to that!” You yelled back.

Bucky chuckled. “I’m going to send Sam back here as soon as he arrives. He’ll keep you company.” And with that, Bucky made his way back to the house.

So this is where Bucky found himself, walking back and forth menacingly behind Jake, who had been tied down to the guest chair in your office. Jake’s eyes shifted back and forth with nervousness as he tried and failed to hold back whimpers and near-hyperventilating breaths.

Bucky had been silent for only ten minutes. He liked the way it made them squirm. He could sit and stare all day, completely unbothered, as anyone he interrogated slowly lost their mind. Of course, there were other, more fun ways, to get information, but he wouldn’t dare mark up your home. He’d never let the one they called ‘The Winter Soldier’ be unleashed in your sanctuary. This is the closest he would ever get, though, and it would never be seen by you.

Bucky stalked around Jake and crouched in front of him. “A milk maid came in here and told me that you’d given him information about this farm. Care to share?”

Jake shook his head vigorously and whined through the duct tape over his mouth. Bucky leaned in closer. What was more terrifying than being yelled at by him? Bucky with an alarmingly level voice.

“Sorry, I couldn’t quite catch that. I can help you talk a little better, but you’ve gotta be quiet. There are people upstairs sleeping, and I can’t guarantee they’ll be as nice as me if you wake them. Promise to be good?”

Jake nodded carefully and slowly. Bucky reached for the tape at the corner of Jake’s mouth and ripped it off quickly. Jake’s head lurched forward, his mouth open with a silent scream between gasping breaths. Bucky examined the sticky side of the tape. There was no hair on it. The steam from Jake’s mouth must’ve reduced the stickiness just enough that it didn’t cause damage. Shame.

Bucky slammed his hands over Jake’s on the armrests of the chair. “Tell me everything.” He gritted out between clenched teeth.

Jake giggled uncomfortably. “Uh….there’s not really much to know, mister…sir….does this have to do with Peach? I thought she owned this farm now. Where is she?”

Bucky growled. “That’s not important right now, but yes, this is about this farm. Tell me everything you told the guy with the soft hands and the jackets that were too crisp to indicate a day of work in his whole life.”

Bucky had no intention to associate that with his own designer crisp suits that he wore everyday back in the city. That was different, it was a totally separate line of work, plus, he wasn’t trying to pose as something that he’s not when he wore them. Anyway, he’s not the one on trial here.

“Oh! You mean Cole? Fucking prick.” Jake mumbled looking down and to the side. “I can promise whatever he said to you was a lie. That guy’s always been awful. He hides a demon face behind his handsomeness.”

Bucky didn’t want to be on Jake’s side, but he couldn’t argue with that. But to keep him talking, Bucky leaned in closer, moving his hand towards the knife on his belt loop. Jake flinched and raised his hands in surrender as much as he could with his wrists tied down.

“Okay, okay, I promise I didn’t say much. At least not on purpose. I was at an investors party up in San Francisco when Cole bumped into me. He was bragging about how he had just inherited his parents’ company and it was way bigger than when we were in high school. Frankly, I didn’t care, I make an effort to forget about a lot from back then, mostly him, so I tried to disprove him by saying that there are still nice little farms around despite his family’s efforts. I told him I still had my mom buy me honey that Peach makes, herself.” He hung his head in shame.

Bucky huffed as he leaned back against your desk and crossed his arms. “Well, way to go. You know, they painted you to be some genius, but you’re an absolute idiot.”

Jake looked up and scrunched his nose. “Well I actually prefer the term loser, bu-“

Bucky raised his hand to stop Jake from talking. “I really don’t care. What matters is that you’ve made a mess for Honeybee that inconveniences all of us. I’ve gotta be the one to work on cleaning this up while she’s otherwise occupied.”

Jake cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow in confusion. “Who the fuck is ‘Honeybee?’ Are we talking about the same person?”

Bucky sighed and wiped a hand over his face, stopping with it covering his mouth. He looked at the helpless man in front of him. How had you ever dated this guy? If he used to be great, what on Earth happened to him? “God, you’re slow to catch on. Yes, it’s the same person, but I don’t think the sweet peach you used to know and love is in there anymore. Not after you abandoned her. And especially not after you gave up her operation on a silver platter to Cole.”

Jake swallowed as he caught on. He had seen the devious glint in Cole’s eye when they had run into each other, but just thought it was a product of Cole’s braggadocious success. Not his complete hunger for domination. Despite the way Jake left, he still cared for you. He didn’t want to see the thing you loved taken away, especially by the guy who caused him so much grief. The guy your family defended him from on so many occasions. He felt awful. You’d taken care of Jake when he was around, but when the opportunity came for him to do the same for you, he failed.

Tears began to well up in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Whatever I can do to help, I will, please, misterrrr…….”

Bucky’s shoulders pushed back in arrogance. Jake squealed all the information he had and didn’t even know the name of the man interrogating him. That wouldn’t do, especially if Bucky wanted to eventually release Jake back out into the wild once this was all over. He made a mental note to have someone coach Jake on how to not give up sensitive intel so easily. But for now, Bucky would take advantage of the ease of informational access.

“Barnes. You get to call me Barnes.”

“Ooh! So like a cool nickname only I get to use? I feel so special.”

Bucky chuckled dryly at that. Jake really was clueless. “No. Not at all like that.” Bucky leaned forward, elbows on his knees as his face inched closer to Jake’s.

“Now tell me everything you know about the mines.”

Jake’s eyebrows raised. “Oh? Those old things? Yeah, Peach and I used to make out in the-“

Bucky waved his hand again as he closed his eyes, unable to look at Jake for another second. “No. Skip that part. What else?” He quickly said, dismissively.

“I know they’re old? Like crazy old and probably prone to collapse at this point. But Pe- I mean, your Honeybee does some occasional civil engineering contracting work. She could probably easily whip up a plan to reinforce them.”

Bucky looked at Jake more intently. He liked the way Jake said his Honeybee, but he couldn’t let that distract him right now. And anyway, you were very much your own person. Far from his. If anything, he was yours. He knew about all your business endeavors, but not those kinds of specifics. “Keep talking.”

“Yeah, I kept up with her after school-well, more like I asked my mom to keep up with her. Apparently she’s like, designed bridges for town and stuff. Why? What’s going on with the mines?”

“That’s not technically your business.” Bucky stood there, debating on his next move.

Jake’s eyes lit up as he gasped loudly. “Oh my gosh. Is she in trouble!? Did she get hurt in a mine!?”

Bucky slapped his hand over Jake’s mouth and whisper yelled at him. “What did I say about keeping it down?”

Jake winced and whispered back. “Sorry. Does Curtis know?”

Bucky nodded. “Yes. And he’s upstairs sleeping. Don’t. Poke. The Bear.”

Jake nodded again. He was being so compliant, Bucky figured he could let a few more details slip. Maybe Jake was a little smarter than Bucky gave him credit for. “She’s trapped in one of the smaller caves. I’ve already got a construction crew digging her out.”

“Wait wait wait. You guys have a proper plan for this, right? You’ve gotta put supports in first and then calculate the load-bearing rocks. You can’t just go willy-nilly digging or it could get worse.” Man, based off that language, Bucky had no doubt Jake truly did grow up around you.

“Good observation, Jakey. That’s where you come in. I know I could’ve just called you if I wanted to know what you told Cole, but I needed you in person to know how serious I am. Grab your little computer and we’ll get going so you can run the calculations while Honeybee talks you through them. You can still ride a horse, right?”

Jake moved to get up, only to be stopped by the restraints. Bucky turned around from the door, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Oh, that’s right, my bad. I’ll get you untied and then we can go.”

Sam was talking with you about where to put which construction vehicles when he heard hooves make their way to the entrance. Bucky dismounted the back of a horse holding a laptop, followed by Jake who was riding ahead of him on that same horse.

“Not a word of this, Samuel.” Bucky growled lowly into Sam’s ear with clenched teeth. “I’ve already threatened the kid with the same.”

Bucky still had no idea how to ride a horse on his own, but would never admit that, so he was actually extremely grateful that Jake could take the reins. Sam had taken the other horse to get to you, leaving only one back at the house for him and Jake to use.

Bucky handed Jake the laptop and patted him on the back harshly, making it more of a shove. This led him to the small hole where you and Sam had just been talking.

Bucky followed at a quicker pace, reaching the area just before Jake could and held his arm out in front of the blond to bar him from going any farther. “Hi Honey, it’s me. I brought you a little present to help out, I hope you’re not mad. It’s your old friend Jacob from high school. Say hi.”

“Jake? Like… Jensen?” You responded, trying to look through the small hole unsuccessfully.

“Yeah, Peach, it’s me. I’m here to get you out. A-and Mr. Barnes wants you to know he’s been nothing but kind to me.” Jake clutched his laptop firmly to his chest, leaning over to be heard better through the small opening.

Bucky gave a stern nod to Jake for already responding well to his coaching on the way over here. Jake sat down by the hole where Bucky had sat before and got to work.

“Okay, Bee. Like I told you before, you say the word and I’ll be here in a minute. You can time me.”

“Where are you going?” He could hear the slight worry in your voice.

“To run a farm. And by that, I mean listen to Curtis.”

You giggled. “Okay, Bucket. See you soon.”

He looked back and smiled before turning towards Sam and pointing into his chest. “You tell me the second she’s close to getting out. I’ll be there.”

Sam nodded. “Sure thing, boss. Need help getting back up on your horse?”

Bucky was already turned away and heading back to your house. He waved a hand dismissively. “No. I’m walking.”

Sam chuckled as he watched the mob boss trudge away. He knew something had shifted in Bucky’s feelings. And he definitely had his suspicions that Bucky couldn’t ride a horse.

When Bucky returned to your house, he didn’t go upstairs. He feared the creaking of the steps would wake Decks, Curtis, and Steve. Plus, he knew he wasn’t going to sleep. Why would he when there was so much to do to help you? He would just get in the way at the mines, so he went into your office. He pulled out the files and article you had planned to show him the previous night regarding Cole from the kitchen, and as he sat down in your chair, he saw a contract with a familiar watermark. Shit.

Fuck. Shit. Bitch.

The letterhead was from ‘Turners Farm Corporation,’ which he had expected, but the associated law firm was ‘Hansen & Co.’ Bucky had his fair share of law firms in his back pocket, but this was not one of them. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

Lloyd Hansen was something of Bucky’s rival in the city. He was an unhinged lunatic. Where Bucky ran things with honor, poise, and calculated movements, Lloyd was messy, unpredictable, and reckless. He’d been trying to make multiple steps into Bucky’s territory, geographically and business-wise, but Bucky had done a decent job at shutting it down thus far.

And now Cole was in cahoots with Lloyd, well, not him directly on paper, just his bitch-ass sister who ran the firm. Bucky couldn’t believe-well, actually he could. He could believe that Cole would have teamed up with Hansen to build enough power for a takeover, especially considering it didn’t add up if Cole was making these moves on his own.

Fired by frustration that more than supplemented the sleep Bucky lacked from not just tonight, but this whole week, he snapped a picture of the contract and sent it to Sam. Sam would make sure it made its way through the right channels and contacts still back in the city. For now, Bucky had a more important priority than personally dealing with business: You. He had never been so grateful for Sam.

As he skimmed through the final page of the contract Cole had proposed to you, the first rooster crowed. Bucky got up to gather the eggs and make breakfast like any other day in the routine he’d grown so familiar with over just the past two weeks. But instead of cooking for you, he was cooking for the small army that came to your aid.

Curtis came barreling down the steps first, followed by Decks, and then eventually, Steve, who slumped and slinked down the stairs, reminiscent of Bucky’s first day doing the same. At least they were able to get themselves up.

Bucky plated their food, Curtis eyeing him with a small smile that Bucky failed to notice, and he sat down in his normal spot to start eating. He honestly didn’t have the appetite to do so, but he knew he’d crash without food since he already wasn’t sleeping, so he forced it down, preparing to go over the assignments with everyone once again.

Steve would be doing what Bucky had last week to set up the farmer’s market since it was scheduled to go again. Decks would be taking over the tasks you had, feeding the animals, and then doing sales with Bucky since people already knew his face. No need to raise more suspicion by introducing two new people to an event you were usually at.

Once everyone cleared their plates, they got to work, doing everything they could to be of assistance for the mob boss who was very evidently on edge.

It was early afternoon when Bucky got a call from Sam. He immediately picked it up.

“We’re close, boss. Only a couple more large boulders to go before there’s a big enough gap to pull her through.”

Bucky dropped the empty crates he was carrying onto the floor of the storage shed where he was returning them from the farmers market. Lucky for him, the storage shed was much closer to the mines than the barn.

Bucky was full-on sprinting in a way no one had ever seen. He never had to once he rose to power. All he did was walk, his long strides alone commanded enough respect. But this wasn’t about pride. It was about you.

He arrived at the mine entrance, breathing heavily, just as Sam was holding your hand, helping you step over a pile of sand and pebbles. Jake stood awkwardly to the side as you looked up from your feet to see Bucky quickly moving toward you. A smile took over your face and you sighed in relief. He scooped you up and spun you around before setting you down again and using his large hands to frame your face. Bucky didn’t care about the dirt and grime that had built up on the two of you. All he cared about was your safe return to his arms.

You watched as his eyes darted between yours and down to your lips. You wouldn’t hold back anymore. He had put all his resources into saving you, helping you. Without wasting another second, you leaned up on your toes and smashed your lips into his. When you pulled back, Bucky lost consciousness, collapsing in your arms.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Tbh I thought some moments in here were so funny, but I’d love to hear your thoughts!! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are sooooo appreciated!!! If I could, I’d make a secret handshake with you through the phone for following this plot line with me. 😉🤠

Series Taglist:

@scuzmunkie

@openup-yourmind

@vicmc624

@hawkeyes-queen

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afreakingdork · 2 months ago

Text

Soft Spot - Chapter 8

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Someone's excited and someone isn't in this week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Trigger warning: There is a mention of miscarriage. Reminder that there will be no miscarriages in this story. I apologize to anyone who has suffered that grief and please know that while times may be tough in this story, they will get better.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. leapt into the air. With a swivel of his torso that would have been impossible with mammalian spinal columns, he rotated all the way around to snatch a Frisbee. He then landed with the brunt of his weight denting dead grasses. Doing the same spine breaking spin, he whipped the plastic disc away from him. It shot with lethal accuracy at your mate who caught it without wasting a bit of movement.

The Frisbee was launched again and the game continued on as it had.

It had been going on for some time now.

It seemed like everything had.

This family picnic.

The last few weeks.

The persistent chill in the air.

It was why you were able to be out like this in the first place. For weeks, clouds took root in the sky. They darkened the doors of NYC and filtered out vibrancy. What was left was the usual humdrum of the city’s occupants and the only other entity that marked winter: cold.

Those who braved the elements bundled up, but there was little to see. All color was sucked from the concrete and buildings leaving everything a similar grey casing as the cumulus constellations above. Even a bright colored coat amongst the sea of neutrals seemed a pale comparison to how it appeared on a store rack.

It sent hoards of people indoors where golden tones were meant to encourage circadian rhythm. Bars were packed until condensation clung to the windows and hid them away from the chill. Restaurants buzzed with patrons looking for bowls of comfort and rooftop parties were dotted with the glowing embers of heat lamps instead of fairy lights.

They glowed like fireflies overtop the city, you imagined.

In reality, you hadn’t seen them.

You hadn’t seen much as of late.

Your husband had become a husk.

You had played out the rest of your Valentine’s trip in quiet contemplation. Waking for the multi-course breakfast should have been a treat and to an extent it was. It helped mop up the bitter feelings of the night before and there was love baked into every bite. The couple and other bed and breakfast tenants made for lively conversation and you heard life stories.

Ones that included family.

Ones that turned Donnie further inward.

He had yet to emerge in the time that followed.

When S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. phoned about the parks being empty, Donnie hadn’t challenged him. He agreed to an outing regardless of the conditions. Your son then immediately texted you with complaints of Donnie’s pliancy since he’d had a whole presentation planned to convince him. You offered to listen, but you certainly weren’t going to turn down the offer. In the end, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gave up and you instead ironed out the necessary details that brought you now to the park.

Only a few joggers happened by at an irregular pace and they were so bundled up they didn’t blink an eye at the giant purple humanoid automaton.

To a side glance, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was nothing more than a colorfully dressed being braving the cold in layers. In reality, your son generated his own warmth and the cold meant his processors were firing at some kind of top optimization. He could finally walk around in his humanoid form without being gawked at and having the park to yourselves was an added bonus. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was living out his dreams of playing catch with his dad, even if said man was less part of the game and currently acting like an automated machine that fired discs.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. nabbed the plastic out of the air in another momentous leap before he ran over to you. “See that one? Did I get higher that time?”

“I think so…” You pondered to play up his excitement.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s legs folded up so he could more closely match your height. “Well!?”

You rolled your eyes over the darkened sky before landing on him. “I bet you can do better.”

“I can!!” He revved to his feet and launched the Frisbee at Donnie. “Throw it high!!”

Your husband complained and the disc then cleared S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s leap by several leagues. “Shoot!”

It disappeared into some dead brush.

Heavy metal footsteps clabbered after it. “I got it!”

You watched the lights on S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s chassis disappear and turned back to Donnie. Your husband’s eyes were both fixed and unfocused after where his son had gone. It had been weeks since you’d seen life shine off his gaze. He fully moved through motions and had never verbally accepted that you were no longer trying. Instead, he let his actions speak louder as you’d gone through your next ovulation cycle without having sex at all.

General intimacy might also have been absent had you not pushed for it. Your mate didn’t deter you, but was a lackluster partner in that regard. You often curled up against him on the couch for the sake of it and it was only after you continued to root stubbornly did he relent with an arm around you. You’d settle as thanks for it, but he no longer churred.

You hadn’t heard the sound since that accursed morning.

There was no helping it.

As Donnie had hypothesized, you became his strength where he lost will. He could easily be led, but he lost the desire to plan. This was his version of burnt out, you thought, as you took over making meal plans and keeping track of household stock. You often left him notes of what needed to be done that day and he always had them complete by the time you got home. It was a little more on your mental load, but his despondency didn’t make the extra work a chore. You wanted to care for him. The only exhaustion you had faced in the last few weeks was the one that struck you every time you opened your calendar.

The ovulation schedule was still overlaid amongst your daily tasks.

Since Donnie was no longer updating it live, it now ran on the last approximate data. You saw the time when your body supposedly released an egg, but if Donnie’s nose picked up on it, he didn’t betray that information. He was a shell that currently did what he was told, ate what was put in front of him, drank until a glass was empty, and slept when he laid down. You cared for him without a single question as you imagined this was all very new for him.

He had never spoken of burnout before though you imagined that was probably the stemming factor for his big 30s change. Years of scraping by took its toll on him and had manifested in him giving up the will to fight. He carried on for the sake of it after that and history seemed to align with what was happening now. It made you wonder how or if Donnie had ever learned to process grief.

It didn’t seem like it since his reaction to such was to shut down. While he rarely treated himself like a computer these days, it seemed like an instinct to fall back on those old habits. The moment the chip in his brain couldn’t process one thing, the system kicked in with a failsafe. It robbed him of all other emotions during the reboot. He was in safety mode which glided by on the barest instruction. Sex, to that extent, was out of the question for a multitude of reasons, but the largest reason had to be it was inadvertently the cause of his crash. Doing it again led to that ultimate are you or are you not pregnant scenario that had caused his malfunction in the first place. Until he could handle that exact computation, you would be in stand by with your pocket warmers close, not that you were troubled by the actual cold.

It had been S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. who created the electric blanket you were currently perched on. He was becoming acutely aware that his parents’ flesh bodies were negatively impacted by the cold. You weren’t exactly sure, but you had a feeling he had downloaded data on babies and it had scared him to find out how fragile they were. That was presumably connected to the dangers of motherhood which was why it made sense when your son demanded to take you out shopping for a downier winter coat. You’d picked him out a cute beanie for his worries which he’d clipped onto his head. It flopped around as he jumped which was exactly what it did when he burst from the bushes. “Found it!”

“Where was it?!” You called out to him.

“Tree!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. threw his arms out to mimic branches. “I didn’t cut it down!”

“That’s my boy!” You cheered him on.

He wriggled happily before coming over. “Soup time? I’ve been keeping it toasty!”

“Sure.” You moved to give him room on the blanket if he wanted it and looked toward Donnie. “Come back in!”

Your husband didn’t jostle and walked forward as if a command prompt had been entered.

You pulled up a secondary blanket that was tucked around your legs.

Donnie knelt down on a far edge of the ground cover and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s chest compartment opened up.

Right next to his facsimile of a heart was a large thermos which he extracted and set down. “Don’t touch it yet. Outside temperature reads 93°C.”

“That’s not toasty; that’s boiling.” You chastised him.

“Nah, it’s totally food safety holding temp!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. scoffed.

“When’d you get your license?”

“I got a part time job!”

“And you didn’t tell me!?” You pinched up the fabric on Donnie’s pants to tug him.

Your mate shuffled only an inch closer.

“I don’t tell you everything, mom.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. took a bitter tone, but his digital eyes wrinkled at the improv.

“My baby, I remember when you were just a microchip…” You feigned sobbing and pulled a seam on Donnie’s pants harder.

He finally came close enough that you could toss some of the blanket over his lap.

There was still a modest distance between you.

“So embarrassing!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. whined.

“Bring someone home so I can show them your baby pictures.” You grinned and grabbed the handle of a soft-sided cooler.

From inside you produced a nice crusty bread you had gotten that morning with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. as a pre-game outing.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. tugged the cooler to him to get bowls ready and dolled out steaming cups of soup.

“Mom…?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. watched on as you relished tearing into the loaf.

He sounded nervous so you addressed him seriously. “Yes?”

“I… don’t have a job.” His eyes were pricked with pixel tears.

“I know, dear.” You patted his hand.

“And I’m ace!” He burst into a phony sob.

“But your dating profile!” You feigned a gasp.

“I just love a free meal and ice breakers!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. supposed agony had him falling over onto you.

He was metering his weight and you wrapped an arm around him. “We’ll figure this out. It’ll be okay.”

“Yeah?” He looked up at you and his display blinked away tears.

“Of course. I’m always here for you.”

“And… scene!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shot upright and you were barely able to get out of the way.

You tittered along with him as he passed you a spoon.

You took it and gave it to Donnie along with a bowl and some bread.

He stared down at the mixture before ladling some up and eating it since it was there.

You gave him a forlorn look before S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. passed you some soup of your own.

“Which parts were true?” You took a knowing bite.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. clammed up and picked up some bread for the sake of it.

“Shelly.” You didn’t need to press heat to know your son would crumble.

“The dating profiles and ace part.” He tore a bit of the bread flesh out and worked it between his metal digits into little tight balls.

“You’re… dating!? Like actually?!” You perked up before you got a bite in your mouth.

“Yeah…” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gave way to despondent embarrassment and balled up more bread.

“I feel like I want to congratulate you, but you’re acting weird…”

“I kinda sorta… Uh… keep ghosting them…?”

“Oh…” You finally took a bite and found the temperature warmed your throat pleasantly.

“Yeah… I love the first date. Ugh, I could do it a million times over! The talk! The first look where they get that feeling! Each person is totally new and figuring out how to make them laugh that first time! Unf!! That’s what I bet it feels like when you take a good bite of food! Has to be!”

“Sounds like it, but…”

“I know…” He ground out and wilted. “Some of them get real mean when I turn them down after. There’s like expectations. That stuff sucks. Can’t we just hit it off and end it there?”

“Not really how it works… It sounds like these people are looking for a real connection. How much are you telling them beforehand?”

“Mostly the synthetic body stuff as a test. If they can deal with that then it’s all picking a place.”

“I meant about you being ace or that you don’t want anything long term.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was getting close to hollowing out his slice of bread.

“You’re not.” You ventured a guess.

“I’m not.” He agreed with a pout written in his body language instead of on his display.

“You’re feeling guilty about it.”

“The last guy got so sad…” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. set the empty crust aside and started building up his bread pellets into a pyramid.

“It hurts. It sucks to think you met someone only for them to just want to stop after one date. Can’t you set the apps so it’s not romantic?”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. knocked over his growing tower.

You waited.

“You can do that?!” Your son’s eyes shot to yours.

“Depends on the app, I think.”

“Show me your profile!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. made an immediate grab for the pocket of your jacket that had your phone.

“Hey! Just because you can hear where it is, doesn’t mean you get to take it before I say yes!”

“Kid rules!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. protested and snagged the flap on your jacket anyway.

You were unable to swat your son away as he got your phone and plugged it into a port in his hand.

“Kids learn certain boundaries.” You grouched and gave up to eat.

“Nah, kids break the rulez. That’s with a ‘z’ by the way.” His eyes blinked at the display. “There’s nothing here!”

“It’s almost like I’ve been in a committed marriage for years!” You dunked your bread into the soup and watched it sop the liquid up.

“But you said you could make friends on it.”

“I have friends.” You chuckled.

“More friends.”

“I’m pretty good with the friends I’ve got.”

“So you just stop!?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. looked at you like the odd one.

“I’m not against it.” You reached out to take your phone back.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s eyes rolled over into binary.

“What are you doing?” You turned wary.

“Found it!” In a blink, he projected a display of a dating profile you had made in your 20s.

You screeched straight through setting your soup safely aside and waved through the pixels to destroy it. “What is that?! Where did you find that?!?”

“Nothing on the internet dies!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. cackled pure malevolence to the cloudy sky.

“Is that active?!” You hissed and started grabbing at S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s form in an attempt to stop the display.

“Nah! It’s an archived page!” He giggled.

“Who archives that!?” You asked rhetorically before switching gears. “Turn it off now, mister.”

He laughed louder and the image dissipated.

You sank back into the blanket with a scowl.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. held out for a few seconds fiddling with his bread again.

“Want advice?” You sighed.

“Yes please.”

“Apologize to whoever will listen. Be honest about how much you feel comfortable with sharing. It’ll help. People can usually sense when someone isn’t honest.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. nodded.

“And ask that last guy to be your friend. He might be up for that. He might not be. It’ll all depend. Just stay safe.”

“Are you warning me about stranger danger?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s eyes sparkled.

“Yes.”

“Will you give me a curfew?!” He cheered.

“You live on your own!”

“Aw!” He whined long. “Can I move back in and get one?”

“Back in?” You got hold of your bowl. “How long has it been since you were living with Don?”

“What was it, dad? Like nine-ish years?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. turned to Donnie as if he hadn’t been silent all this time.

Donnie didn’t look or respond.

“Nine years, 142 days, and six hours.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. told you.

You gave him a sympatric look for trying to include Donnie.

He took it with an understanding bob. “It’s not like there’ll be room for me soon anyway.”

“Shelly…” You had always had a feeling that S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was insecure about his place since you’d told him you were trying for a baby, but this was the first time he’d voiced it.

He waved his hands to dispel your worries. “Not like that! I want a little dude or dudette sibby!”

You tried to stifle a laugh.

“I do!”

“No, no.” You reached out to take one of his hands. “Not that! ‘Sibby?’”

“I’m gonna teach them all the cool slang!”

“Sure…” You teased.

“I am! I’m gonna be so cool! The coolest bro ever! I’ve been downloading books and everything!”

You softened. “You are.”

“Can I babysit?”

“Only lame big brothers don’t.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gasped, horrified.

You squeezed his hand, not that he could feel it.

He did notice though and looked up to you. “How’s that going? The data hasn’t been updating like before…”

The way Donnie’s spoon scraped the bottom of his bowl was palpable.

You sent him a nervous look, but he didn’t return it.

When you got back to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., you saw your son had done the same.

“Clean.” Donnie spoke his second or third word of the day.

You slurped down the rest of your soup and held the last bit of bread in your mouth before passing him your bowl and utensils.

He got his own and walked off.

“I mean it’s obvious something happened.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. spoke as soon as Donnie trended out of eye line.

You chewed quietly before you spoke. “It really seemed like I was pregnant for a minute…”

“Did something bad…?” He searched you with growing anxiety.

You shook your head. “No miscarriage, just a late period.”

“Could be late from stress.”

You bobbed your shoulders both agreeing with the possibility, but also not knowing for sure.

“What happened?”

“The emotional toll is… getting to us. It finally caught up with Donnie… I don’t know, Shelly. I asked if we could stop trying for now.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s red eyes widened.

“He’s not getting back on his birth control or anything, we’re just… I don’t know! We didn’t talk about it. I guess we won’t be obsessed with the schedule? I guess it just happens if it does…?”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. nodded.

“He’s hurting and I can’t help.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. tipped over until he could rest his head on your shoulder.

You set your cheek atop him. “I was hurting and he was there for me, but now it’s reversed and I think I’m doing everything I can, but maybe there’s something more.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shook his head under the guise of snuggling closer.

His body radiated warmth and you leaned into it. “I know… Part of this is him coming to terms with what will or won’t happen.”

“I don’t really get it.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. spoke softly after you hadn’t for a while. “The urge to reproduce or whatever, but I get family. I love family. I want more to love.”

An arm snuck around to hug you.

You wriggled until you could sling one around him.

He rumbled with what you identified as a digital version of a churr. “When’d you get that?”

“Used a mixing board and messed with the levels a few weeks ago.”

“That’s fun.”

“Makes me feel closer to dad.”

“You’re just like your dad.” You pecked just above the point of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s triangle.

“Thanks.” He rumbled louder.

You chuckled and rubbed his arm.

He adjusted a bit so he could lay in your lap.

You made sure he was whatever version of comfortable that worked for him before you followed lines in his body with your fingers.

He relaxed there for a while and his eyes closed. “You’ll make good parents.”

“I hope so.”

“You will. Dad’s come a long way. You’ve always been great. Fun to make yell.”

“Goodie.” The corner of your lip quirked sarcastically.

“It could take years.”

“I know…” You murmured.

For a long moment you both existed as parent and child.

“I think… we need to accept that. I think that despite hearing those low odds, we thought we could beat it like we have everything else. I think all this… shit, all these shitty thoughts, this misery, is a weird warning.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. watched you.

You looked down at him. “You can’t strong arm a baby. A baby takes time.” You rubbed the area where his cheek would be. “A baby takes understanding and you can’t force it. You can’t force any kid. Knowing every logical science fact in the universe isn’t going to convince a baby to stop crying. Kids are little nonsensical storms. Maybe all this was showing us that. The sooner we accept it, the better.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. reached up and took your hand.

“Do you think Donnie will ever make up for how he treated you?”

“No.”

“But you still want him to?”

He thought for a long moment. “No.”

“Are you waiting for something…?”

“Nothing.”

“Why… did you stay? Why do you still bother? You became independent, why didn’t you leave?”

The line of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s smile was so genuine you felt your very being soothed. “He’s my dad.”

You had to look away.

You looked up at the cloudy sky.

It sat the same way it had for weeks.

Unmoving.

You lost focus as you stared at the diffused light.

You didn’t see anything until a sharp zap of cold nipped your nose.

It almost felt wet, but from what you saw of the sky there was nothing there.

You had to bring your head lower to see the tiny tufts of snow.

You patted S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s chest to get his attention.

The flakes weren’t heavy enough to come straight down and instead flittered off with weak will to gravity.

“It’s snowing…” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. mooned.

He was soon up from your lap and catching your hand.

You were on your feet in moments and he threw his head back. You watched as his digital tongue appeared from the line on his beak and a snowflake hit him only for it to melt instantly. He cheered for it and you threw out your frame to do the same. The snow tasted sour on your tongue and you gagged a little. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. fussed about acid levels and you returned the concerns by wondering why he hadn’t warned you. He started to respond before he ran for the sake of it and you chased after.

He purposely kept within reach so you could catch him and when you did you caught his wrists. You then threw your weight to one side which spun him, but didn’t knock him over. You kept up momentum, soon running. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. caught your hands right back and you were twirling until the flurries made for white blurs around you. Increased speed eventually broke you apart and you both fell onto crunching grass with giggles.

Donnie appeared over your head and you looked up at him with warmed cheeks. “It’s snowing, Don!”

He nodded and offered you a hand.

You let him help you up and tried not to look too owlishly as he initiated a secondary action by dusting grass clippings from you.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was still on his back and watching with glowing eyes.

“Where’s the stuff you rinsed?”

Donnie looked over to the blanket.

You followed his sight and assumed by the open cooler that he had stuffed the tableware in there. “I might have eaten some acid snow.”

Your husband’s face didn’t betray much, but his chin dipped a little to check.

You stuck your tongue out for him to see.

A snowflake immediately landed on it and you choked as you stumbled away. “Ack!!”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. hooted with laughter.

“That was dumb!” You coughed and returned to find Donnie with the faintest light in his eyes.

Yours tripled in size.

He did nothing more and only continued to watch you.

You thought about double taking, but instead chewed your lip.

It took some heavy debate before you gave it all up to chance, “Did… you trick me?”

His gaze softened the smallest amount.

Your heart skipped a beat.

You meant to say something, but a flake then touched down on the tip of Donnie’s nose.

His eyes crossed to look at it and you reached up in a great show.

He lowered his head for you thinking you’d wipe it.

You were going to and fisted up your fingers so your thumb was free.

Just before you made contact, you switched grip so your forefinger was extended and used it to swipe down the melting droplet straight into your mate’s mouth.

The acidity hit his heightened taste buds and he reared away from you with the most movement he’d made in almost a month.

Both you and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. couldn’t contain your giggles.

You both felt the moment Donnie recovered more than saw it.

“RUN! DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shrieked before kicking up lawn to take off.

You pivoted as quickly as you could to run the other way.

You heard S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. scream out something about Donnie not being able to catch you both before there was an explosion of sod. You turned back, having run a good many feet away to find debris falling with the snow and Donnie hunched over the jangling arms of his son’s body in a crater. You peeped a single time as his head shot toward your direction. You made it exactly three more leg lengths before your husband dropped down in front of you.

You tried to keep from running into him, but your backpedal tripped you.

In a perfect tango maneuver, his hand caught your waist and you were tugged flush with him.

You hadn’t been this close of his violation in a while and butterfly wings beat against your insides as you looked up at him.

His gaze poured over you, still partially withheld, but opening up further by the second.

“You were listening to me and Shelly.” You told him.

“Yes.”

“Did Shelly know?” You tilted your head.

“One can assume.”

“Did you two set me up?”

“No.” Donnie almost smiled, but caught himself.

“Shelly!” You called out. “Did you!?”

“No!” You heard some earth shift and assumed he was pulling himself up.

“You okay?”

“Yup! Can we do that again?!” He cheered.

“Later.” Donnie rolled his eyes and didn’t bother raising his pitch.

“You seem to like what I thought. About not rushing kids?”

Donnie evaluated you for a while before he looked off to the side. “Sound rationale.”

You reached up and placed your palm flat to his cheek.

He leaned into you. “I’ve been distant.”

“You needed to be. I always told you. It’s fine as long as you know I’m waiting.”

“Always…?” He turned up the end of his sentence with a raw tear to his chilled gaze.

“Always.” You agreed and tucked your fingers into his mask.

He gave a faint exhale and leaned down.

“You don’t have to force yourself to be okay. Even now.”

Again, his lips twitched like he might smile, but didn’t.

You thought that was enough.

He came closer until he was just shy of kissing you.

His reluctance to marry your lips meant something so you only watched him up close and let your hand slide down to his shoulder.

He liked the maneuver and felt comfortable enough for his eyes to shut as he took in your closeness.

You nosed into his airspace and commingled just like that.

The snow didn’t pick up and stayed little wayward flurries that would sometimes brush your skin.

Long after they dotted and melted against your coat did Donnie’s forehead brush yours and he gave the barest churr.

Your fingers spread out against his collar and you sighed contentedly.

“I’d like to continue our exercise in spontaneity.”

“Oh?” You breathed out and felt the warmth of it bounce back from his skin.

He nuzzled you amongst a slight nod.

“I’d like that. I like being close to you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t stay away.”

“You needed me.”

“I did.” He pulled so there was the pressure of your body against his. “Needed you close. Need you.”

“I’m here.”

This time when he nodded it was to lift his head.

“What’s left from your list? Double penetration?”

That finally got him to smile, but he squashed it.

You chewed on your grin.

“An entire mechanism for such, my present at the lab, and something new I’ve added as punishment.”

“Edging…” You hissed at your kryptonite.

Donnie only sent you a confirming look before he released you.

You took a few steps to give him space.

“Now?!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. chirped as he waited the same distance away.

“Run!” Donnie snarled once before taking off.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. squealed delight as he thumped away on bulky limbs. “Wait! This body sucks for this!”

“Too bad!” You heard a clunk of metal before you saw Donnie reach him. “I believe this is called: tag!”

“Tag…” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s mouth line warbled and Donnie turned to run.

“Tag! Mom! It’s tag!”

“There’s no tag-backs so…” You saw Donnie signal you for which way to go and you ran that direction.

“Tag!!!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. cheered before his plodding footsteps were sent in your direction.

💜 NEXT 💜

@tmntxthings is busy with life changing stuff and @thepinkpanther83 is sick as a dog! Much love to my precious betas in these trying times!

#softspotfic #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt Donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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sodosshame · 2 years ago

Text

Please Kiss Me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, SA/Beating implied (no graphic detail), feelings of not being good enough

A/N: Thank you for the recent love on my other stories! Pls feel free to request any short stories and I’ll do my best!

Description: Daryl finds you after an incident, and he does his best to patch you up and help you feel better, offering reassurance the whole time.

I can’t believe that for a second I thought that I would fit in around here. I can’t believe I thought someone actually liked me. Fucking of course he didn’t. It was all just some stupid joke with his asshole friends. He was using me. You’d think the end of the world would change things like this, huh?

Stupid. Fucking. Piece of shit.

Wiping the blood from my cheek, I slowly stand up; trying to avoid any possibility of fainting again. I must have looked a right mess at that moment; my face stained with dried blood and tears.

The most stupid thing was that he wasn’t even someone i liked, felt attracted to or anything.

I just wanted to feel wanted. But he humiliated me.

Looking around, I begin making my way back to my ‘home’ in Alexandria.

“Y/N! C’mere!” I hear a shout from behind me.

Daryl.

I don’t respond, not wanting anyone to see me like this. Despite my attempt to make a swift getaway, I hear his footsteps against the pavement behind me; then a hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, do ya-”

I turn around to face him now, not really seeing any other option at this point. A look of shock on his face, he brings his hand up to gently move a piece of hair out of my eyes.

“What the hell happened to ya? Did some ass-”

“Daryl, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

Hoping that my response satisfies him, I turn to continue walking. I feel him keeping up behind me.

“Look, if some idiot hurt-”

“I said I’m fine. Just leave it.” I snapped. I didn’t mean it to come out as harsh as it did but at that moment I just wanted to go home.

“At least let me patch ya up.” Daryl grumbles behind me, still keeping up the same pace.

Getting to my door, I fling it open and make my way to the kitchen and grab myself a glass of water. I watch as he fumbles around for the first aid kit; and once he finds it, he walks over to me.

“Ya gonna let me do this?” He asks, his voice surprisingly gentle.

I nod, setting my drink down on the counter. He puts the first aid kit down and pats the counter.

“C’mon, get up ‘ere.”

Silently, I do as he says, brushing my hair away from my face again. I watch as he gets a wet cloth, gently wiping it over my face. Daryl concentrates, and I can tell he’s doing his best to not hurt me; he wipes over the source of the bleeding and I wince.

“‘m sorry, darlin’” He mumbles softly.

Despite everything, my stomach flutters at the nickname.

“‘sjust a little cut, though. No stitches needed.” He reassures me as he gently wipes it again.

As he walks over to the sink to wash out the cloth, I take another sip of my drink, still not saying anything. Once he makes his way back over to me, he stands in front me and tucks one side of my hair behind my ear.

“Are ya okay?” He asks softly, his eyes meeting mine.

That did it. I suddenly felt a sob rising in my throat and I couldn’t hold it back.

“I- I’m so-” Not even able to finish my sentence, I feel hot tears streaming down my face.

“Alright, you’re okay. Take a breath for me y/n, yeah?” Daryl says as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me off the counter and into his arms.

Unable to respond, I sob into his chest. I feel his hand come up to my head, gently running his fingers through my hair.

“Ain’t no-one gonna hurt ya now, I got ya. You’re okay.” He soothes, gently landing a kiss on the top of my head.

For the first time in a long while, despite what had just happened; I felt safe. It took a while for me to be able to speak again.

“H-he never g-gave a shit a-about me.” I stutter.

“His m-mates; they cornered me a-and-” Pausing for a second, I struggle to get the words out.

“Ya don’t have to go into detail, darlin’.” He says softly, pulling me away from him so he could look at me.

“Those bastards are gonna get what’s comin’ to ‘em, alrigh’? I’ll take care of it.”

“Not now, Daryl. P-please don’t leave me r-right now.” I respond, still stuttering.

As I hear him sigh, he pulls me back into his embrace; just holding me for a little longer.

“I w-was so stupid to think anyone could ever-”

“Don’t say that shit. Yer not the problem, alrigh’? He didn’t know what he had.” He interrupted, once again pulling away from the hug to look at me; leaving his hands on my waist.

“Ya don’t know how important ya are.” He pauses, chewing on his lip.

“Daryl-”

“Yer important to me, y/n. You are one of the few people I give a shit about and I ain’t gonna let anyone ever hurt ya again, alright?” He says, his voice wavering slightly.

“I.. I care about you too, Daryl.” I mumble shyly in response.

His eyes flicked from my eyes to my lips and back to my eyes again.

“This’d probably be a bad time to kiss ya, huh?” he asks quietly.

I shake my head in response.

“Please kiss me.” I say, a blush spreading across my tear-stained cheeks.

With that, he presses his lips against mine. I snake my arms around his neck, melting into his touch.

All this time, it was him that I really wanted. I just never thought I had a chance.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon angst

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kelcemenow · 1 year ago

Text

Win Or Lose - Chapter 3.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1633

Warnings Angst, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage.

This was a very detailed Anon request that I received and knew I had to give it a go! (I’ll not paste the whole request here as I usually do, as it was rather long but if you want to read it, it’s here. Be warned, it’s rather full of spoilers!)

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

"Ooh, I like this one!" You clicked on the beautiful white wooden crib, adorned with pale yellow sheets and blankets.

Travis leaned in closer to see the screen better, "That's dope, baby."

You raised an eyebrow, "Dope? You're describing this absolutely gorgeously crafted crib with smooth drop sides and form fitting mattress included as dope?"

Travis grinned and placed a hand on your small bump, "A dope-ass crib for a dope-ass baby."

You rolled your eyes and looked back to the screen, "Why can't we just go and look at these in the store? I think it would be better if saw all of this stuff in person."

"Baby, you know why. One click of a paparazzi camera and we're on the front page. I can just see it now." He lifted his hand in the air as he spoke, "Chiefs star tight end Travis Kelce and fine-ass wife spotted shopping for baby items. The whole world will know."

You continued to scroll, not looking at your husband, "Front page? You think that will be the breaking news story of the day?"

"You know what I mean, we need to wait a little longer. Just in case, you know?"

Resting your head onto the back of the couch, you looked towards Travis, "Yeah, I know. We're going to have to tell people soon, though." You rubbed your stomach, "I'm 14 weeks tomorrow."

Travis chewed his bottom lip, "How do you want to do it?"

"I mean, we could just post something on Instagram or something?"

You looked to your husband who was staring down at your bump, drawing circles with his finger, "Nah, I got a better idea. Why don't I say something at the press conference after the game on Sunday?"

You smiled, "You know what, that's not half bad! I like it!"

"I'll tell the guys and coach at practice today so that they have a heads up."

You stroked his cheek, "I love you so much, Mr Kelce."

"I love you to, Mrs Kelce."

You giggled, "It's been almost 3 years and I still get all giddy when I hear that."

He slid closer to you and kissed your lips gently, "That's what you are. My wife, my woman, my girl...Mrs Kelce." He took a deep breath, "And soon, we're going to have a little Kelce running around. And it's going to be so loved." He leaned his head down towards your bump, "You hear that little bean? You're so loved already."

You smiled, "That's another thing. We're going to have to start thinking about names."

"I like little bean!" Travis laughed.

You moved your laptop from your knee and turned to face Travis, "Okay, for a boy...Hunter?"

Travis nodded slowly, "Hunter? Hunter...I like it. Hunter Kelce."

"And if it's a girl...Sienna?"

"Sienna Kelce, that's gorgeous."

You jumped a little, "You like them?"

"I do, I really do. You mentioned the name Hunter once before and I liked it then, but Sienna is beautiful." Travis smiled.

"We'll be able to find out soon which it'll be."

Travis' eyes widened, "Really? Have you called the doctor?"

"Not yet, I was going to wait until after Sunday so that you'd be able to come with me."

Travis shook his head, "No, let's do it now, make the appointment. See if Dr Tomlin has any space tomorrow for us? I'm sure coach will let me dip out of practice early, for this especially."

"You sure?"

He kissed your forehead before laying a kiss on your bump, "Of course."

You watched as he rose from the couch, "Now, foot rub?"

______________________________________________________________

The doctors office smelled of disinfectant and the lights blinded your eyes. You blinked and noticed Travis pacing around the room.

"Will you stop? This is exactly like the bathroom when we took the test. You're making me nervous."

Travis jumped on the balls of his feet, attempting to shed some energy, "I can't help it baby. I'm just so excited."

The office door swung open and Dr Tomlin smiled at you both. He was middle-aged with greying hair, a rounded stomach and broad shoulders.

"Hello, both of you. Nice to see you." He smiled and checked his chart, "So, Mrs Kelce, you're at your second trimester now. How have you been doing?"

You shuffled on the bed, "Yeah, I've been okay, morning sickness hasn't been too bad which I'm pleased about."

Dr Tomlin nodded, "Excellent. Well, I have your results from the ultrasound. Would you like to know the gender of your baby."

You looked to Travis, who had his eyes locked on Dr Tomlin, his lips pursed together and head nodding quickly.

"Yes, please."

Dr Tomlin flipped over a page on his clipboard, "You're having a girl."

Your head whipped to face Travis who was frozen, breathing heavily.

"A girl?" His voice croaked.

"We're having a girl!" You shrieked, sitting up on the bed and opening your arms to Travis who immediately rushed over to you to embrace you.

"Congratulations, I'll leave you two alone." Dr Tomlin closed his clipboard and softly closed the door behind him.

You swung your legs around so they dangled off the edge of the bed. Staring up into Travis' eyes, you held onto his hands tightly. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to your small bump, lingering for a few seconds.

"Sienna Kelce, it's your Daddy here."

______________________________________________________________

Your eyes drifted open as the sound of keys jiggling in the lock rose you from your afternoon nap.

"Hey baby! Travis shouted from the front door.

Pulling the blanket up over your chest, you cleared your throat, "Hey!"

"So, coach is absolutely stoked for us, said he's going to get a gift basket sent to us from him and Tammy." Travis' excited voice grew louder as he made his way into the lounge, "And the guys went crazy when I told them. Honestly baby, you should have seen them, my back is killing me from all of the back slaps! Expect a lot of hugs on Sunday's game."

You giggled and stretched in your horizontal position, "That's amazing, baby."

He leaned down and kissed your forehead, "You had a good nap?"

You yawned loudly, "I did! I was just watching TV and the next thing I knew, I was asleep. You want some dinner?"

You started to lift yourself from the couch when Travis held his hand out, "No no, I got it. You keep resting. In two days, we're going to be announcing to everyone that we're bringing a little Kelce into the world, you're going to need your strength."

You shook your head and laid back down on the couch, "I'd better take advantage of all of this rest now while I can! Because in about 5 months, everything is going to change."

Travis placed his warm hands on your bump, moving his thumbs back and forth, "It's going to be so awesome."

You grinned and watched him disappear out of your vision. Craning your neck, you could just see him in the kitchen, examining the contents of the refrigerator. Your heart swelled as you watched his muscular arms grabbing items and setting them down on the counter top. You knew he was going to be a wonderful Father to your daughter; learning to braid her hair, playing with her dolls on the playroom floor, cheering for her at school sport's days and teaching her the rules of football. You imagined how she would look, wondering if she would get her Daddy's piercing eyes or his dark hair.

Suddenly, a short sharp pain shot to your lower stomach area. You gasped a breath and let out a groan, your hand darting to your bump. The pain repeated, but with a more intense sensation this time, causing you to roll over slightly and curve your back. You squeezed your eyes shut, holding your breath as you rode the pain out.

"You want some tea, baby? I got a nice lemon and ginger one at the store yesterday." Travis called out for the kitchen.

You tried to call his name, but the effort to form words was too much. Instead, your managed a guttural cry, causing Travis to rush to your side.

"Babe, what's wrong. Are you okay?" You heard Travis say through your darkened vision, "Look at me, baby, look at me."

You opened your tear-filled eyes to see Travis' concerned expression as he knelt down beside you, "Something hurts, it's really bad."

Travis' eyes glanced down to your bump under the blanket, "Come on, I'm taking you to the hospital." He kissed your forehead and stroked your hair, "It's going to be fine. Let's go, I'll get the keys."

You peeled the blanket back and hauled yourself up, stopping when Travis' face turned white, his eyes wide and his mouth agape.

"What?"

He swallowed hard and stared at the empty space on the couch where you once were. You turned your head to see a large area of the beige couch now marked with dark red. You grasped at your bump again, closing your eyes as you felt another stab of pain.

"No...no, please no." You croaked.

Travis' breathing became shaky as he held your face close to his, your foreheads connecting, "Baby, look at me. Come on, we need to go to the hospital. Please, let's get up." His shoulders began to tremble.

You blinked wildly as tears started to stream down your face, only halted by Travis' thumb running over your cheek. Using your hand, you pushed yourself up onto your feet and felt Travis' strong hands clinging onto you.

"I got you, baby. It's...it's going to be fine, say it."

You took a deep breath and tried to steady the quiver in your voice, "It's going to be fine."

______________________________________________________________

I found this chapter really hard to write. My heart goes out to anyone that has had to experience this and I cannot imagine what it must be like. I really hope I haven't offended or upset anyone with any incorrect details but I researched as much as I could so that this would be written in the most respectful way possible. If anyone wants to be on my Taglist for future writing so they don't miss another one, let me know!

Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983 @charmed2000 @nouis-bum @cixrosie @delicateearthquakellama @wordsaresimple-imnot @amylouwho9 @queenisa17 @talicat713 @luvvtrent @purecinnamonextract @savaneafricaine @caelipartem @beyxgrande @caitdaniels @ezgirl1108 @vir-tual @lightsoutstyles @macey234 @s294749w @kelcemesoftly @calirindo @livinginmyfantasies @bernelflo @secretmywritingfictionlawyer @killatravtramp

#travis kelce x reader #travis kelce imagine #kelce x reader #nfl imagine #original story #travis kelce fic #travis kelce #nfl fluff #travis kelce fluff #kelcemenow requests #travis kelce angst

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charles-leclerc-official · 6 months ago

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2024 Imola Grand Prix Race Analysis

My analysis of the Imola Grand Prix. This race on the surface was as some have claimed "boring" however when you dig into the data a different story emerges, one that promises more competition this season.

Table of Contents Race Overview Ferrari - Qualifying - Charles - Carlos - SF-24 Upgrades Red Bull - Max: vs Lando - Sergio Mclaren - Lando - Oscar Williams Mercedes VCARB Aston Martin Data Analysis Final Thoughts

Race Overview

This race was interesting in the terms of what we learned about the Ferrari and Mclaren upgrades as well as the RB-20. However the race as a whole was mostly uneventful. To put it simply this race was decided in qualifying. Especially at the top of the field. Max’s race was decided there, same with Lando, Charles, Carlos and Oscar. They were close enough in pace that had any one of them been ahead in qualifying that would have likely meant they kept that higher place, or had the win. I’ll go into a little more detail in the team sections, but overall this race was the one where qualifying mattered the most so far this season.

Because the top three teams were very close this race in terms of pace I wanted to just lump the data analysis into one section instead of making it team specific, that way it’s just easier to read and it didn’t make sense to split it up because one comparison is informing another etc. So team sections as usual, and then data for all of them at the end.

I want to emphasize just how close the top three teams are. Especially Ferrari and Mclaren(again more in data section). The results may not feel like they reflect this, but trust me, the margins are finer than they have been all year. One team is not poised to run away with all the top points. Even Red Bull, while Max is still Max, Checo's performance and the overall performance of the RB20 this weekend showed that the car is not as dominant as previously thought.

Ferrari

Charles qualified P4 and finished P3(after Oscar’s grid penalty) so he started the race in P3 and finished there as well. Carlos qualified P5, moved up to P4 on the starting grid after Oscar’s penalty, and finished P5.

As I predicted the Ferrari strategy this race was pretty straightforward. Charles was supposed to try to catch Lando, while Carlos held off Oscar. It went smoothly and while Charles was not able to catch Lando because their pace was very similar, Carlos did hold off Oscar the entire medium stint. He only lost that place to Oscar when he was undercut in the pits. And even though he did lose the place there that was important because it kept Oscar from putting any pressure on Charles early on. So overall Ferrari strategy was good and they made the correct calls. It just was unlucky with the pit timing. That happens. So overall I am happy with the Ferrari strategy this race.

The biggest thing for Ferrari is now Charles is P2 in the WDC standings, it is early in the season but that is still exciting. This is due to him out-qualifying Checo, which apparently wasn’t that hard to do this race, but we take the win on that. Ferrari and specifically Charles’ consistency is really paying off both in the WDC standings and the WCC.

Qualifying

Ferrari had issues of getting up to proper speed in qualifying, a problem that was especially costly in Q3. Many have claimed that this was a result of failing to warm up the tyres on the outlap. However that isn't the whole story. Ferrari had a different power deployment approach compared to Mclaren and Red Bull, and that was the cause in the lack of speed going into the lap. Lower speeds would affect the driver's tyre prep. So yes their tyres were not in the right window, but it was not due to the previous warming issues we have seen from the SF-24. Both drivers also struggled with speed on the outlap. Carlos had more issues but Charles was also affected. Ferrari have identified where they made a miscalculation in this area and seem confident they can improve and avoid this in future races.

Now the team has not been very specific about this with regards to the power deployment. So there aren't a lot of answers to be had there. But the statement from Fred and Charles suggest this wasn’t an issue with the upgrades or tyre warming directly, and as I said they seem confident it’s an easier fix.

Impeding during qualifying rumors: I have already discussed the possibility that Carlos impeded Charles’ Q3 outlap thus compromising Charles’ Q3 run extensively on this blog. I will recap quickly because I do not want to re-hash everything again. So I am going to keep it short. There is no evidence this happened. People made the claim and it spread. Charles and Carlos were not close enough on the track for impeding to be possible. If anyone has any real proof I’d be interested in seeing it, but I have been sent a lot of fake proof already and I doubt that is about to change. Don’t believe something just because everyone is saying it, ask for evidence. Yes they both were noted for failing to keep proper deltas in the same outlap, but that is not proof that the cause of that for Charles was Carlos. And I have seen the claim it cost 3 tenths. I don’t know where this number came from, but again, I am not seeing where in the data this assumption is coming from. Charles would have mentioned something in post qualifying interviews if the outlaps were a problem. He might not have pointed at Carlos, but when asked what they could have done better he at the very least would have said they could have done a better outlap etc. He didn't, he said that was all they could get out of that session and that the appearance of qualifying looking lackluster was that the others were faster, not that his outlap was compromised. I understand some people do not like Carlos and will not give him the benefit of the doubt but this was so far beyond insane. I am by admission not his biggest fan, but I need to see proof that he made an error to properly critique it, otherwise it’s just a conspiracy theory. I find that this kind of thing spread so widely and so many people believed the claim at face value without seeing any kind of proof to be far more concerning than the claim itself. Ask for sources, look to see if any footage supports a claim, and if there is no proof then it should not be spread. Period. You can think what you want privately all you want. The next time something like this happens please think critically, I am begging. If new evidence on this issue comes to light I will address it, otherwise it’s past time to move on.

Charles

Charles ran a clean race. He didn’t have the extra pace to be able to catch Lando. They were very close in pace, so it was not going to be possible. I’ll discuss more in the data section. But Charles held the podium spot which is what we wanted to see. First podium for Ferrari at Imola since 2006, so it was a very special moment for the team.

Carlos

Also ran a pretty clean race. He was less comfortable in the car all weekend, especially during the race, however he was still able to hold off Oscar. So I am very happy with his performance and role in the team strategy this weekend. He didn’t lose the place to an overtake, he lost it in the pits and that came down to being undercut by Mclaren, not much he could have done. So as far as driving goes he was solid and did exactly what he was supposed to do in terms of the team strategy.

SF-24 Upgrades!

The most exciting thing this weekend was that Ferrari finally brought their first upgrades to the SF-24. These upgrades were aimed at improving pace, and targeted some issues the base SF-24 has been mitigating. These upgrades were overall a good step forward and continue to take Ferrari in a competitive direction.

I will say that this track wasn’t the best for these upgrades and I think we need a few races to fully judge the true performance of these upgrades, so understand that there may be issues or more more gains that we didn’t see this weekend. I suspect that there is more pace in that car.

SF-24 Upgrade Improvements:

Tyre warming: the upgrade did target and significantly helped the tyre warming prep issue we have seen give very mixed results in terms of qualifying and even some races.

Low speed corners: Ferrari are now faster than Mclaren on low speed corners, and previously Mclaren were faster in this area. A very positive sign.

Comfortability for Charles: This is important as he is ahead in the standings and he is the future of the team. They said the upgrades would target his driving style and it seems they have.

Reduced downforce for better straight line speed: The reduction in downforce did improve our straight line speed, that isn’t as clear when compared to Mclaren who have taken a bigger step forward in that department, but this was an improvement on the base we had.

Areas Ferrari Still needs to Target:

Ferrari are in a good place. They could change nothing about the race pace of the current upgraded car and with track position it would very likely be a win. However there are always things to improve beyond just qualifying.

Biggest thing is still qualifying pace. We took a pretty good step forward in this area, but Mclaren did as well, so we didn’t feel the gain as much as we might have otherwise. However I think we are much closer to getting this worked out. It isn’t so much a tyre warming issue as it is a settings issue. The upgrades mitigated a lot of the tyre warming, it was there yes but nowhere near what we’ve been seeing in earlier races.

Straight line speed: It’s good, and in some places it’s competitive or right on pace with Mclaren, however ideally we want to be faster, so that is an area to target for improvement. Improved straights would also lead to better high speed corner performance as well. Make no mistake the car did take a step forward in this area, but Mclaren did to so the improvement doesn't feel as significant when looking at the results.

These two should be the primary focus, as well as any adjustments for Charles to get the car to a point of balance that he likes.

“The upgrades were bad Carlos said he wasn’t comfortable”: Ferrari has made it clear from the beginning that upgrades and the direction of the team would favor Charles. This isn’t surprising and is expected since Charles and Carlos have very different driving styles and preferences. Carlos still was able to keep ahead of Oscar as needed so even less comfortable he was able to do his job. It is not possible to have these upgrades suit both drivers, Charles is the one they are focused on. You can feel however you want to feel about that, but these results in terms of different feedback from the drivers goes support exactly what Ferrari have said they would do.

“The upgrades were bad, we weren't fast”: No, the upgrades added pace in key areas and directly helped issues the base SF-24 had. Mclaren also upgraded their car so that doesn’t mean the Ferrari isn’t good.

“Ferrari promised more pace”: We saw about 2/10ths added in pace this weekend. However this track was not suited to the car overall. I think we need to see a few races before we can accurately judge how much pace was actually added. This much on a less than optimal track is encouraging.

“The upgrades didn’t do anything”: They did, I’m sorry they didn’t add 20 seconds to the car and make it start flying, that’s not how this works. We saw tangible improvements. There was more at play in the race results, so you cannot judge if the car is good or bad based on that alone.

“I am disappointed and feel misled by Ferrari about these upgrades”: The upgrades were never a magic bullet, they did a lot of what they promised and it’s the first race with them. Give them some time.

“Tyre warming was a problem again”: No, in fact Charles confirmed this himself in one of his post-race interviews. The problem was more connected to power deployment on the out lap, and this caused the tyre prep to not be as good, but it was not the tyre warming issue we have been seeing in the first 6 races.

Overall a good race for Ferrari. Excited to see what the SF-24 will do in future races!

Red Bull

Red Bull had a very mixed weekend. Between Max not being fully comfortable in the car, and still not having great settings come race day, to Checo getting knocked out of Q3, this weekend showed quite a few cracks in the Red Bull armor. Max still won, and in sub-optimal conditions for him in that car, so even if the RB20 is not perfect for him he proved he can still put it on pole and he can still win. Which of course is going to mean that Red Bull are still competitive even if the car itself isn't the fastest on the field.

Checo's performance was his weakest thus far. That was the worst qualifying performance we've seen from a Red Bull all year. It was out-competed by Yuki in the junior team car. And again this is what cost him P2 in the standings to Charles.

Now on to the main thing everyone is talking about as far as Red Bull's race goes.

Max VS Lando

The big question at the end of this race “Was Lando going to catch Max?” In my opinion no he wasn’t. And even if he had caught up, I do not think he could have actually passed Max. Being fast is only one piece of the puzzle, to actually pass a top driver you need to be good at overtaking. Lando has yet to show me a quality overtake this season against one of the competitive cars in the field. In my opinion Max would have been able to hold him off, yes even struggling.

So was Lando matching Max on pure pace? Was it due to his speed? In part. There were three factors at play that led to him making some gains on Max in the final 10 laps.

The Mclaren upgrades have added good straight line speed

Lando was pushing at an unsustainable rate. He said so himself over the radio that he was at the limit.

Max was struggling with his tyres

So even with Max struggling with his car and the improved Mclaren Lando was unable to catch Max. If Max hadn’t been struggling that gap would have been larger. I do not think this means he will be seriously competitive with Max in every race they are close. If he couldn’t take Max in sub-optimal conditions for Max there is no way Lando is catching him when Max does have his car in the right window.

I cover this more in the data section. But while he did make good gains on some laps by the final 5 he was not continuing to close that gap, which is what he would have needed to do to catch Max.

“But if Lando had a few more laps he would have caught Max”: I don’t think he had enough in the tyres to keep pushing at the rate he was to close the final gap. And as I said, I am not convinced he would have been able to overtake even if he’d closed the gap.

“Lando was better than Max”: I missed the part where he passed Max then I guess? He had to push to be faster and still couldn’t overtake a car on struggling tyres. If he’d had track position he probably would have stayed ahead. But since this race was decided in qualifying more than anything, and he did qualify behind his teammate(pre-penalty) he didn’t have the qualifying lap to get that place. He had a solid race, that’s good enough.

“X was better than X”: With the top 3 teams being so tight, especially with Charles, Lando, and Max being close on pace this isn’t really a helpful statement to make. Now there are moments when one was stronger and stood out? yes, but on overall performance it’s not clear cut.

Lando was fast in that final stint and some of that was due to early good tyre management on his part, but the other part was that he was pushing hard. He didn’t have much left and I think if we’d had a few more laps the gap would have stayed the same or he would have dropped off on pace. It wasn’t sustainable. Nice to see a driver push, but you only push like that to make a pass quickly, it isn’t the kind of thing you can keep up forever until you catch another driver.

Mclaren

This was Mclaren’s best result thus far for both drivers. They have had better positions, however a P2 and P4 is better than the 3-4 from Australia. And of course While Lando won in Miami, Oscar didn’t finish in the points. So as far as placement for the team as a whole goes this was best.

Now it wasn’t perfect. The results and speed I think were a little deceptive and made them look more competitive than they are in reality compared to the other top two teams. The success was mostly due to the straight line speed that their upgrades provided. Oscar seemed like he was the faster of the two with the full upgrade package, which would track given his performance in Miami with only the partial package. But again we didn’t get to see him with that front row start. I do suspect this trend will continue.

Lando

Lando qualified P3, jumped to P2 when Oscar was penalized, and he finished P2. Same story as the other top 3.

Lando’s race was pretty standard until the last 10 laps of the race when he was pushing to try to catch Max. I explained above my opinions on that match-up, and will be covering the data in the data analysis section.

It was a strong showing for him. But ultimately he did not have enough pace to fully close the gap to Max and I don’t think he would have given more laps. He was pushing too hard to sustain that pace and he was starting to make more mistakes. Max on the other hand was not.

Oscar

The biggest thing that affected Oscar’s race was the three place starting grid penalty he received for impeding Magnussen during qualifying. It was very clear, so a cut and dry penalty. His time qualified him P2 but he was dropped down to P5 behind Carlos.

The impeding was really a failure of his team to let him know that Magnussen was coming. Unfortunate to see. Mclaren really fumbled that because they would have had their faster driver starting behind Max.

And yes between the two Mclaren drivers I do believe Oscar is better suited in terms of overall racecraft to have made the pass on Max. He’s shown he can do it, and with these upgrades he is faster than Lando. We’ll have to see after a few more races if this remains to be true, but he has been more competitive this year when it comes to overtaking.

He gained a place on Carlos in the pits. His pace was almost identical to Carlos', and Carlos was able to keep him behind. I am not sure how much of trying to avoid a repeat of Miami played a role in this. Carlos has shown he will fight to prevent a pass and that may have been in the back of Oscar and Mclaren’s minds.

I have more on his pace comparison with Carlos in the data section.

Williams

Another not great race for Williams. This time the car was slow, and also Alex’s pit crew messed up his pit stop, and didn’t properly attach one of his tyres. The team was penalized for this with a 10 second stop and go penalty for an unsafe release. By the time they had served that time Alex was two laps behind so they opted to retire from the race.

Logan came in P17.

I don’t have much to say beyond that this season Williams as a team has repeatedly failed both their drivers costing them results. The car is as we have seen by now, not good. Alex is a good driver and is struggling in that car, and it has been so hard to judge if Logan has improved because the car hasn’t been helping us see that.

Mercedes

The Mercedes upgrades do seem to have improved the performance and reliability for both drivers. Lewis especially seems to be far more comfortable in the car. Lewis started P8 and finished P6. Tied with his best finish for a Grand Prix of the season. George started P6 and finished P7. He lost one of those places to Lewis in the pits.

Lewis and George were matched on pace on the medium tyres. But on the hards Lewis was noticeably more consistent on pace compared to George, who started losing pace on the hards after 10 laps. He did pit before Lewis. However Lewis maintained better pace on the same age tyres where George started to see a drop in performance. So Mercedes was right to keep Lewis ahead, he was the one with better pace this weekend. Overall they were very close, but Lewis had the edge especially on the hards.

Mercedes still is lacking quite a bit in the competitive speed category but they do seem to have taken a step forward, and Lewis is quickly making up points for the rocky start to his season.

VCARB

Yuki had a great weekend. He qualified P7 in a very competitive field. And in the race he finished P10, losing places to Lewis, Lance, and Checo. Which was expected, especially the pass from Checo. Yuki is having the best season of his career and the fact he is closer to competing with top teams than the rest of the mid-field is impressive. He has been getting extra performance out of that VCARB car and is carrying his team in the standings.

Danny started P9 and finished P13, losing places to Checo, both Haas cars, and Lance. Losing places to the Red Bull and Aston Martin were pretty expected. Would have liked to see him more competitive against the Haas cars. He’s going to need more points compared to Yuki to keep up with the team.

Quick look comparing Yuki to Danny and Checo. You can see Checo was on pace with the two VCARBS during his first medium and his hard stint. Then on the second medium stint he flew away on pace again.

And comparing Danny and Yuki directly. They aren't so far off in overall speed. However what put Yuki ahead and kept him ahead was his consistency. Even his slower laps were less slow than Danny's. And Yuki was slightly faster, by multiple tenths in several places. They are matched on straight line speed(with Danny even being a little faster there) but on a complete lap Yuki was simply more consistent.

Aston Martin

Aston Martin did not have a great weekend. After a FP3 crash, and then losing grip in Q1 and doing a long run into the gravel he took damage and had to start the race from the pitlane. He started P20 from the pits and finished P19 and that was due to the fact Alex DNFed. So he didn’t make up any places. The Aston upgrades do not seem to have been a step in the right direction, at least for Fernando, and that isn’t going to be good for them in the standings as he is their stronger driver.

Lance had one of his better races. Starting P13 and finishing P9. That’s fewer points than the team want to see in that car. The current competition for the team is VCARB and with Yuki’s performance they cannot just get by with 2 points this race.

I’ll be interested to see if the team can further upgrade the car, because that qualifying pace was not great and the race pace is middling. They have the potential for a more competitive car but I am not convinced they are going to get it there.

Data Analysis

And now the part everyone has been waiting for. Just how close are the top 3 teams?

This is going to be a lot of pace comparison. That was the name of the game this race for our top 3 teams. It’s the reason the race was “boring” by some people’s standards. Because they were all so close on pace no one was quite able to catch anyone else to make a pass.

Before we get to the data bear in mind a few things. 1. This was one of Mclaren's stronger tracks 2. This was one of Ferrari's weakest tracks 3. Red Bull was struggling on car settings for this race weekend So these results are going to be skewed in Mclaren's favor and it's not necessarily going to be accurate for future tracks. I think the margins are even closer(at least between Ferrari and Mclaren than this race and the resulting data suggest)

Max Vs Lando

First the full race pace. It’s pretty clear Max was faster on the mediums and then was close to Lando on the first half of his hard stint and then in the second half of his hard stint he dropped in pace. Max noted that it didn’t feel right, likely an issue with the car setup for the weekend, or a combination of the specific deg of the track and the temps and car not being ideal. I think the Mclaren was in a better performance window all weekend so that was reflected here.

The thing that is most important here is those last few laps where Lando was fastest but the gap wasn't closing. He was dropping off in that faster pace at a similar rate to Max, which does support my claim that he had already gotten everything out of those tyres and with more laps his chances of catching Max were not as good as many sources have claimed.

Fastest Lap Comparison

This is where it gets interesting. We saw this same gap in straight line speed against the Ferraris and it’s present here too. Ferrari said that Mclaren were doing something “weird” to boost their straight line speed and yes, a gap like this raises questions. I don’t have an exact explanation. It is likely linked to engine settings and power unit/battery usage. The point is that this is not Lando being faster than Max, it’s very much the car doing that for him.

All of the points where Lando made his gains to Max were on the straights and high speed corners.

Track dominance to show that this is in fact all the straights and the high speed corners. The losses to Max were in the mid and low speed corners.

Now I want to point out that Lando was on older tyres compared to Max for this fastest lap comparison. He did drive early to preserve his tyres and then was seriously pushing on that lap when he tried to make gains to Max.

In equal tyre age Max was about 1/10th faster. His issue was with deg and grip at the end compared to Lando.

I will be interested to see the actual source of this new straight line speed(it may be they have sacrificed a lot more in downforce than we thought). A jump ahead this big is interesting. However it does mean that most of the Mclaren pace is coming from that straight line speed so on tracks with fewer straights and high speed corners they won’t fare quite as well compared to the Ferrari’s and Red Bulls because they are not faster on the low and mid speed corners, and weren’t all weekend. Every gain they made they lost in the corners. It is one of the reasons Max was able to stay ahead and Carlos was able to keep Oscar behind.

For all these fastest lap comparisons I am less interested in the actual lap time, and more so in the track dominance because that is where we are getting the story of where these cars are more competitive against each other.

Just to be fair here is the lap 38 track dominance for both Max and Lando, and here it is for lap 54 so that we are seeing both their best laps and seeing them on similarly aged tyres. And again we see the same pattern of the Mclaren being faster in the straights and the Red Bull taking the corners.

And again this is what I think matters most. Even on a lap where Lando was almost a full second faster than Max he still was not faster on those low speed corners, even with Max struggling. So I think these laps really serve to highlight where the speed and losses are coming from on both these cars.

It is safe to assume that on tracks that rely more heavily on mid to low speed corners and more frequent changes in direction Mclaren will not have the same advantages in speed we saw on this track.

Charles VS Lando

First race pace comparison

The medium stint is almost identical. And the beginning of the hard stint Charles is faster by a few tenths those first 15 laps after pitting. After that Lando gets a slight edge. Charles was pushing, and so was Lando. As you can see they were close. Closer on pace than Max and Lando. Again this really came down to track position. Lando wouldn't have caught Charles if he was ahead, and it's also why Charles couldn't catch Lando.

Fastest lap comparison

Note that Charles was on much newer tyres. Again I think what this really does is highlight key differences in the car performances. And this is most easily seen again in the track dominance map. The straight where Charles is faster here was due to DRS so ignore that.

But I want to compare their laps right out of the pits to account for tyre age, so here is the track dominance for both on the fresh set of hards. And also looking at both their lap 54 track dominance(this was Lando's fastest lap, and not that Charles also got DRS on the straight there)

On the new tyres Charles still has it on the lowest speed corners, and there are more points on the track where they are straight up equal. And again on lap 54 Charles again has those corners compared to Lando.

Now let's look at over all pace between Mclaren and Ferrari as well as fastest laps

You can see that there is no standout fastest car, the amount of overlap here is considerable. (Also the website made Carlos and Oscar both white lines, I know it's confusing but the website would not change it)

The slowest was Carlos and you can see him falling off the most at the end of the hard stint. But the thing I am really interested in is that medium stint overlap is crazy, especially between Charles, Lando and Oscar. And again we see almost identical pace in the first 10-15 laps on the hards.

Full track dominance. Again the biggest thing here is that Charles is ahead on those corners against both Oscar and Lando. Carlos also getting some good straight line speed coming out/going into the low speed corners which again is very promising.

Fastest lap comparison.

Charles and Oscar both had DRS at the start of the lap. The only thing here is just to show how close Charles is to the Mclarens. Even not having that top speed he is still there.

Quick comparison of Charles VS Oscar because I think this will come up in the future. While Oscar had the better qualifying lap his race pace was slightly worse than Charles almost the entire race. Charles was better on the mediums and the hards. There are some areas where they were close, but Charles also had a sizeable gap for a good chunk of laps especially on the hards.

Oscar is fast but he needs to work on his race pace if he wants to be able to catch cars and also not lose places, because looking at this Charles might have been in the window to overtake Oscar had Oscar been ahead.

Top 3 Comparison

So we have looked at teams and individual battles. However everyone has been talking about a triple head to head of Charles vs Lando vs Max. I think that's a bit overexcited. However I do want to look at the top three to see how close it is.

Race pace. Here Max is clearly ahead on the mediums. Then on the hards Charles and Lando are better. The biggest thing here is just the amount of overlap and the margins are very fine.

Again fastest lap. The tyre ages are very different. But again I am more interested in seeing the fastest laps these cars produced and where they did well compared to the others in terms of speed. Sector 2 is where Max started losing to both Charles and Lando, and sector three that gap increased more.

And what is more interesting is the track dominance.

This is what is promising when it comes to actually taking the fight to Max. This track was not great for overtaking, in fact it is a problem at Imola. On a track where overtaking is easier we are going to see more battles if this keeps up. Like the performance of the Ferrari and the Mclaren were better. The difference was Max in that car.

And to compare the same laps to Max's fastest lap we still see the same pattern.

And again corrected for tyre age.

I think this one is also interesting because it still shows that the Ferrari and Mclaren were by far the most dominant. And in all cases the Mclaren had most of the straight line speed, and the Ferrari had the low and mid speed corners but especially the low speed corners.

Now you could do this for every lap, and there are outliers. I picked laps I thought would show the trends we are seeing in these cars. It was difficult to correct for conditions. But you can see that there is a pattern here across multiple laps that's really the takeaway rather than any one lap in particular. Again I really think it was less about the drivers and more about the cars this weekend in particular.

So the big conclusion from this section is we learned something about all three top cars performance parameters. All teams have areas to improve. And the margins are fine. At this point in the season it is going to come down track position and skill.

I think that these next few races will likely reveal more pace or issues on all of these cars so this is really just the beginning. To see things competitive even when conditions were not great for Ferrari or Red Bull is exciting.

Final Thoughts

While there was minimal overtaking this race showed us some key information about the top three cars. And the rest of the season is looking more competitive with every race. It truly feels like we are on the brink of something this season.

That’s all I got, see you at Monaco!

#lucis race analysis #imola gp 2024 #charles leclerc #max vertsappen #scuderia ferrari #long post #formula 1 #f1

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becdecorbin · 2 months ago

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TRAUM process

or how I bring these heckin comics in front of your eyeballs. some folks seem to be under the mistaken impression that I draw comics every day and then upload them, which isn't the case at all! I draw them one chapter at a time and then schedule the uploads.

more detailed breakdown under the cut.

1: thumbnails.

the Comic Book Thumbnail Template by BrianAtkins is one I use, the guidelines on the edges are very helpful.

I make thumbnails one chapter a time, each seems to have gotten longer and longer over time. at times I find pacing issues and add extra pages or don't like the direction the story is taking which is when I scrap the thumbnails I've done. this is basically also the stage where the story evolves since I only have a rough idea of what I want to do as well as ideas I've jotted down, no scripts or anything.

2: comic file.

the comic page template has a lot of helpful features. I don't know if Clip Studio Paint Pro has these features, but EX certainly does, and it's very practical with maintaining a certain workflow, being able to view all the pages in a file and jump between them with ease.

3: work on the pages. lol

I blow up the thumbnails to double as sketches, unless whatever I intend to draw is more complex, in which case I make a separate sketch. next, I add panels.

I add text + draw speech bubbles around the text.

inks.

grey tones to add more definition, background details, shadows, etc.

and when I'm done with all the pages in a chapter (Chapter 3 has 96 pages total, phew), and formatting individual pages for web, I proceed to...

4: upload the pages.

I upload all the pages on ComicFury and then schedule them to upload on specific dates. the updates are automated, but I manually share said updates on social media sites.

5: time for a break.

I take a break from working on comics for a month or two to recover. I know after I finished and uploaded chapter 4 I felt super burned out. but I'm already eager to continue working on more comics! I'll just have to see after this break. after Traum story 1 concludes I'm pretty sure there won't be anymore comics until January, but it's possible I'll eat my words.

so yeah!

Questions nobody asked but I'm answering anyway:

Why two pages a day?

idk. I felt that since the pages have 3+ panels on average, just one page a day would feel a little too dripfeed-y.

Why not release the whole thing at once?

I like maintaining intrigue! plus, I like having something to look forward to as well! I schedule the pages to be at 9:30 in the morning specifically for my sake, originally the pages came out at midnight sharp which didn't do much good for my sleep schedule.

I'm going to be demanding over a comic I can read on the internet for free.

please don't.

also slightly edited version on comicfury.

#traum comic #spoonblabs

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vivs-fics · 3 months ago

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Just As It Is

Bucky Barnes x Reader

College AU

No minors allowed. Read at your own discretion.

TW: Swearing, religious imagery, smoking, mention of underage drinking

Part 1

Dark clouds linger overhead, far too close for comfort. A twinge in the air and rain birds circling the sky makes unease swell in the pit of my stomach. A storm is brewing, something dark this way comes- and here I am walking down the street with no jacket, no umbrella and Bucky’s place nowhere in sight.

I quicken my pace. Shoes stomping heavily on the asphalt, desperate to outrun the impending shower- to no avail. Thunder claps, electricity crackles, the birds make their descent in the sky behind me and the floodgates of the dreaded downpour open. I feel the rain spilling through my hair, the chill crawling down my spine and soaking my clothes. I wish more than anything just to be inside, warm and in good company.

The D&D campaign tonight is one I’ve been looking forward to for weeks. Bucky let me in on a few minor details now and again. This story was meant to be his most enticing yet, described by the man himself as “a fuckin’ mind-blowing maelstrom of malice, monsters and murder.” He added that the alliteration was meant to captivate and create anticipation- fucking English majors.

I have a feeling we’ll be trekking through some haunted castle, infested by a lonesome vampire luring innocents into his clutches. I recall when the theory solidified for me, it was just a few days ago- after classes had ended for the semester. Bucky and I were meeting up on the benches on the edge of campus for our afternoon chit-chat and I convinced him to act out a snippet from the forthcoming adventure.

Bucky slinked behind me, fallen auburn leaves crunched under his boots and the chains on his pants clinked together- I held my breath as he brushed his fingers over the side of my neck. The touch was light, almost untactile- nevertheless my skin felt like it was lit ablaze. The flames spread, embers sizzled deep in my stomach, the red blaze surged through my arms, and it settled in the tips of my fingers.

Blood rushed to my ears and my heart pounded against my chest, I could feel his breath on my neck. “Are you scared, little bird? Or do the pleasures of the night entice you? Are you willing to take this journey and receive your hearts desires, or do you fear the lurking horrors may consume you before you reach the summit?” Bucky whispered. A shuddering breath escaped my lips, and I took a moment to compose myself, a shoddily concealed smile on my face, “Jamie is the whole campaign going to be voiced in that sultry, bad guy accent?”

He beamed, “I guess you’ll have to wait and see, sweetheart. You should, however, expect to be wowed beyond your wildest dreams.” He raised his right hand and touched it to his heart, “That’s your beloved dungeon master’s guarantee.”

He sat himself down on the bench next to me, the wood creaked under his weight, and I brought my eyes up to him- I found myself lost in the vast blue of his eyes.

God, he’s beautiful. Gazing upon the pastels of a rococo could not compare to him. The glittering of all Klimt’s work would never be able to culminate to the way he shines, my Bucky glows from the inside. The light in his eyes are millions of stars burning in the sky, had Van Gogh’s masterpiece been done today, surely Vincent would have drawn inspiration from them. The figures taken out of stone by the great Michelangelo wouldn’t amount to the statuesque beauty I see in him, skin smoother than marble and a face that could have only been carved by the divine.

“You alright, Birdie? Somethin’ on your mind?” His voice was smoother than honey, it dripped from his lips slowly and it covered me in its splendour. I shook my head. I couldn’t tell him. I wouldn’t allow myself to say just how much he means to me. I couldn’t risk ruining years of friendship and muddying the dynamic we have. We’re in tandem, parallel lines that are destined to run beside each other for as long as the universe allows.

“What’s up with the ‘Birdie’ thing, Buck? Were you inspired by my beady eyes or the way I flew down from the trees to see you today?” I jested in the hope it would cover up the black hole that would in the pit of my stomach.

His eyes drifted down, and his ring-clad hand pulled a fallen leaf fragment from my sweater. Bucky shrugged, “I don’t know, it was in my dialogue for the campaign. I thought I’d run with it, it’s cute. It suits you.” He leaned back, palms flat on the dark wood of the bench. He tilted his head back and flashed me a bashful smile.

I look toward him in earnest, and he continues his ramble, “No, actually, it’s stupid. Sorry, sweetheart.”

He shook his head, the beautiful cascade of brown hair framed his face and I retorted, “No, no. I was joking Jamie, I do like it. It’s just different, is all. You had me thinking someone usurped my title of your cherished sweetheart. I was just brainstorming my plan of action- you know- setting my targets and ensuring I could retrieve the name that’s rightfully mine.”

He sat up and rubbed his hands down the length of my arms, a comforting gesture. A reassuring one. Hands caressed me like the singed spine of a book salvaged from the fires of Alexandria- as if I were a priceless artefact not to be handled precariously. “Nobody could steal that from you, Birdie. And if you catch me callin’ anyone other than you, sweetheart, know that I’ve been body snatched and you need to come save me.”

A laugh escaped me, he knows just how to make me feel safe when I’m with him, in every capacity. Bucky wrapped himself around me, encompassing me in the warmth that melts the welts of my worries. It’ll be fine, I thought to myself. I can do this. Right?

Rain beating down on me like the mighty wrath of Zeus hauls me out of the fond memory and pushes me back into my very cold, very wet reality. In the distance I can see the living room light turn on in Bucky’s home, the exterior of it seemingly harsh and bitter but it’s filled with more love and acceptance than I’ve experienced elsewhere. The wind whistles riotously as I bang on the door, “Jamie! I’m getting hypothermia out here! Can you open the fucking door please?”

He emerges, brows furrowed, “Birdie, what are you doin’ here? The campaign isn’t for another hour,” Realising that I look like a drowned subway rat he ushers me inside, “Shit, sorry! Come on in sweetheart, uh- let’s get you dry.”

“Thank you, Jamie, truly. Really glad you didn’t decide to leave me outside to die.” I shiver out. He looks at me apologetically. Jesus those eyes. He could get away with murder with those eyes. He could glance at St. Peter at heaven’s gates and Bucky would be admonished of all his sins. He’d be allowed in and be given the best resting place Heaven has to offer without so much as a word. They’re soft, an endless Mediterranean blue- so captivating it would rival Narcissus and his reflection.

He disappears for a moment and emerges with a dry article of clothing. Bucky extends his hand to me, the soft grey fabric now within my reach.

“Here sweetheart, fresh shirt. You can go to the bathroom and change if you want. I’d offer my room but… truth be told, it’s a mess and I’d be embarrassed if you saw how I really lived.” He ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I- uh- I can also grab a sweater for ya, if you’re still cold.” He adds, with a smile.

“Thanks, Buck.” A small grin graces my features, the cold that clung to me dissipates in the confines of his kindness. “My god, the Zeppelin shirt?” I clutch it to my chest and gasp dramatically. “Maybe I should walk to you in the rain more often, I don’t get this five-star treatment all the time.”

“Hush, sweetheart. You know I’d give you anything if you asked.” He retorts, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

After changing into something significantly more comfortable than the soaked fabric that clung to my skin, I return to the living room to find my knight in shining armour lighting a cigarette on the back porch. He turns to look at me and inhales, “You feelin’ better now?”

“Much,” I move to sit beside him on the battered porch swing, and tilt my body towards him, “Can I have a puff, Bucky? Light of my life, saviour of my world?” He smiles and puts the orange filter up to my lips, I breathe in. Letting the nicotine fill my lungs, I feel the menthol spread across my body, it tingles down my arms and a calm settles over me.

“You want one for yourself sweetheart, or would you prefer to smoke half of mine like always?” He cocks his head to the side and smiles.

“I’m fine with our arrangement just the way it is, Jamie.” I shift over and place my head on his shoulder. He kisses the top of head, a familiar gesture. For him it was a sign of reassurance, as if he was saying: ‘you’re going to be okay as long as I’m here.’

“Why’d you decide to come here so early, Birdie? You miss me that much?”

“Don’t flatter yourself James, I just needed a smoke.” Taking a long drag of the cigarette, I close my eyes- happy to finally be where I needed to be.

He hums in acknowledgement. “Of course, sweetheart.”

“You want me to help you set up?” I enquire and he shakes his head.

“Nope. I got it all sorted out, you can just sit and look pretty.” He places his thumb and index finger onto my chin and squeezes, his nose scrunches up and a smile graces his face. “Although, that shouldn’t be a problem for you sweetheart.”

“Are you calling me lazy, Barnes?”

“I’m callin’ you beautiful, Birdie.” He says simply, the words roll off his tongue with no more effort than a breath.

What I wouldn’t do for him to always look at me like this, with those azure eyes full of contentment. They’re warmer than the embrace of a summer’s day, than the encapsulating feel of steamy water in the bathtub, than a balmy breeze whispering past me on the beach.

“Oh, uh, Buck? I got you a little something.”

“What? You didn’t have to do that, sweetheart. You should know that you bein’ here is a gift in and of itself.”

A smile makes its way on to my face, and I chuckle, “Sure, but this is something that you absolutely need,” Sifting through the contents of my bag, I find it. A small black box with a glittery red bow on the top, “Here. Open it.”

With the unveiling of the contents of the box, Bucky’s face lights up- like a Christmas tree on December 25th. “No fuckin’ way, sweetheart.” He shakes my shoulders excitedly and promptly goes back to admiring his new possession, running his fingers over the cold metal links, “Holy shit, this is so cool. A fuckin’ chainmail pouch? Is this for my dice?”

“Yes! You can keep them all together now, I know they always end up in weird places after campaigns so I thought this could help.”

“Thank you, Birdie. This is amazing.” He laughs.

What an angelic sound- comparable only to the trumpets of heaven or the symphonies of a divine orchestra. He wraps his arms around me and squeezes, “I love it.”

I turn to face him, bending my leg up on the worn porch swing, the wood is soft under my skin, such a familiar feeling- upon which so many memories were made. Bucky moves closer to me, an indistinguishable look in his eyes. My breath halts, it feels as if my lungs were dipped in iron. My insides are hot and there’s a fluttering in my stomach. Why’s he staring at me like that? Am I melting? It feels like I’m melting. Come on, get a hold of yourself. It’s just Bucky, looking at you the way he always does.

A small smile graces his face, the edges of his lips lifting ever so slightly and the corners of his eyes crinkling up. He tilts his head to the side and places his hand on my cheek, his thumb shifting up and down so gently I almost don’t notice. I wonder if this is how people experience religious euphoria. Is this how it feels to be touched by the hand of God? Could the promise eternal peace be held within the fingers that are caressing my face? Is it possible that the divine culminated in this Adonis of a man?

An abrupt knocking at the door startles me and Bucky recoils, “Let me, uh, I- I’ll get it.”

“Bucky, open up already!” A woeful gust of wind screeches outside the door. “Jesus Christ, Barnes, I’m gonna grow old and rot before you let us in!” Sam yells, announcing his presence.

“Alright, alright! I’m comin’.” Bucky shuffles to the door, a twinge of annoyance laced in his tone. His demeanour, however, shifts when the boys come inside. He’s happy to see them, he always is. I am too, they’re some of my best friends. I won’t lie to myself though; I would have appreciated them arriving just a few minutes later- if for no reason other than quelling the sheer curiosity about what was going to happen.

“If it took you any longer, Buck, I would have assumed you were dead.” After hugging him, Steve sets down his bag and greets me, “Y/N, Hey! It’s so good to see you. We didn’t interrupt anything did we?” He raises his eyebrows suggestively.

“No, no, Stevie- you’re all good. I missed you.” I ruffle his hair when he comes over for a hug, my actions are met with a disgruntled groan from the six-foot-three puppy of a man.

Nat pulls up behind me and I embrace her excitedly, “Nat, baby! How have you been? How’s your girl?” She slinks her arm around my neck and in return I put my arm around her waist.

“We’re alright, hon. Why? Have you reconsidered our request for a threesome?”

“Aw, Natasha don’t flatter yourself. We agreed to do it without you, obviously.” I give her a light pat on the back and turn away, going to greet Sam.

The rest of the group starts filtering in after a bit, Steve and Thor creating their usual ruckus.

“Alright sinners, are we ready for the campaign of the century?” Bucky announces, as he stands at the head of the table- a king ready to lead his troops into battle. A Greek god, blessing his subjects with the greatest gift- a myth, a legend, a story to be passed down ear-to-mouth and mouth-to-ear for generations to come. And we, his loyal subjects listening in earnest, hanging onto every vowel, every consonant as if it were our life force- sustaining us. His words igniting a bonfire to provide light and warmth as we make our way through this ominous cascade of casting spells, battling beasts and me trying not to visibly sweat because of that sultry voice Bucky is speaking in. Anxieties fly high as the six-hour campaign draws to a close.

“Xanaphia of Excelsior, you have travelled a distance incomparable to any other, you have seen nations built and destroyed, you have brazened the path to my home- a journey no man before you had been able to conquer. A path, little bird, no man should be able to survive.” Bucky narrates, his character so carved out and precise I almost don’t recognise him.

“Luckily for me, Alaric... I am no man.” I smile up at Bucky, he reciprocates- a genuine beam shines upon my face. I knew the Lord of the Rings reference would get to him. The rest of the room melts away, the cries of Sam telling me to finish the job and Scott excitedly banging his fists on the table become nothing but distant memories. Bucky stands, in all his glory- broad shoulders block the light behind him and a halo encompasses the edges of his physique. Is he an angel, or just the devil in ambient lighting? With his eyes piercing into mine like they are, I don’t think I could bring myself to care.

“No man indeed.” A corner of his mouth turns up, a devious smirk creeps onto his face. “So, little bird. What shall it be? I am completely at your mercy. You have me on my knees.”

Everyone perches on the edge of their seats at the final roll of the D20, the last dance between my character and the Vampire at the top the Hill approaches. To stab or to seduce, that is the question. Will I succumb to the pleasures of the night or fight my desires and kill him for my brethren, currently surrounded by ghouls? I should kiss him, right? A move to seduce could ensure that the Vampire lets the surviving members of my party go, whereas a move to kill him could result in everyone being murdered. This is purely a selfless choice.

“I’ll roll for charisma. I want to kiss you- him! Ahem- Alaric.” Heat rises in my cheeks and a pit forms in my stomach. Oh, my God.

A hush falls over the room, the booming of the dice upon the table is all that can be heard, save for the thudding of my heart that pounds in my ears. The resin contraption stills, and Bucky leans over to inspect what the gods have decided my fate shall be.

“A… a fuckin’ nat’ twenty.” He says in bewilderment, his voice barely above a whisper. And the crowd goes wild- jests and jeers come from all around the table.

“Alaric of the Hill concedes! Your kiss has bewitched him, congratulations. He decides to let your party go on the condition that you keep him company. Will you, Xanaphia, stay with Alaric and forgo all other quests?”

“Fuck yes.” I state triumphantly, relieved as all heaven that the risk I took paid off.

Celebratory drinks are raised, and toasts are made in my honour- to Xanaphia of Excelsior, she who could warm the heart of even the most cold-blooded of creatures.

Bucky gets the music going and Thor pours the drinks, perhaps the most dangerous of combinations. Bodies push against each other, the sounds of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me intertwine with the heavy breathing of the people in the room, dim lighting overhead makes for a danse macabre-esque sequence to play out around me. We are neither here, nor there. Dead, nor living. Could this be a man in front of me, or an angel? Deep shadows are carved under his cheekbones and his jaw is sharp under this light, threads of walnut hair are strewn across his face, moving with him to the music.

Rhythm flows through me, I lift my arms up close my eyes in sheer delight- being here with these people is all I could ask for.

Bucky is beckoned over to the kitchen and upon arrival, he laughs boisterously at something Sam says. Steve claps his shoulder and throws his head back as he always does when someone makes a stupid joke. I wonder if he knows that he lights up the room the way he does, if he has any idea of the fact that he could put the Nevada sun to shame, that all the bonfires in the world couldn’t amount to the warmth he brings to a room.

Well, perhaps this exact situation is not all I could ask for, but it will do just fine.

As the song reaches its summit Nat approaches me with an inebriated smile on her face, she reaches her hands out to me and interlocks her fingers with mine.

“Hey pretty girl, you havin’ fun?” the red head exclaims, her voice barely swimming above the music. We move together to the rhythm of the song; I sway my hips and look around the room, to find Bucky over by the counter, pouring himself another drink.

My eyes shift back to Nat, and I smile, “Of course, babe! It’s always a good time when you’re here.”

She lifts my hand and spins me before resuming our prior position. She raises a quizzical brow, “You sure, hon? Because you keep looking over in that direction.” Nat tilts her head towards Bucky. Of course she’d know. She’s like a bloodhound when it comes to people’s feelings, sniffing out the source for minor ticks in their facial muscles, every dilation of their pupils and apparently each longing stare in their direction. “Y/N, do you have something to tell me?”

I shake my head, grimacing slightly, “Don’t worry about it, babe. It’s fine.”

“No, uh-uh. Come on.” Nat takes my hand and pulls me through the room and to the restroom. She points at the clawfoot tub, “Sit. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Nat, I really don’t want to talk about it right now.” I turn my gaze from her, mortified at the prospect of having to spill my feelings.

“Baby, if you like Bucky it’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve suspected it for a while now.”

“How the fuck did you know? I thought I was good at hiding it, Nat.”

“Freshman year, orientation mixer. Do you remember that Y/N? Because I do. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that drunk. You vomited into a flower pot- really not a good look for you, baby. Bucky showed up in that black leather jacket and you physically faltered when you saw him. I had to hold you up for the better part of five minutes because your legs, and I quote, ‘couldn’t possibly stay solid with how fucking hot he looked.’”

“Oh my God!” I exclaim and put my head in my hands, “I have to dig a hole and hide away in it forever. Nat- that’s fucking awful. You never told me!”

“I assumed you’d bring it up when you wanted to talk about it,” She shrugs, as if she hadn’t just unearthed the one dirty little skeleton I would have liked to keep buried, “And you never did, hon. But it’s been years and you’re clearly still enamoured with him, and I feel like I’m entitled to a little bit of an explanation.” She takes a seat on the cold porcelain next to me, a half-smile decorates her face.

“Okay- you’re right and I’m sorry for not telling you before. I just couldn’t- I didn’t want to make it real. You know? Because if I admitted that he’s on my mind constantly and that he’s the only person I’ve really, truly wanted for fucking years, and that he makes me feel seen and heard and cared for in a way I never thought was possible- then there was a possibility of all that going away.” An exhale escapes me, and I look away from Nat- who seems less flabbergasted at this admission than I’d expect.

She places a supportive hand on my shoulder, “Baby- you know that man loves you, right? You’re his best friend, he’d never let you go like tha-”

“I know, I know.” I interject. “He’s my best friend too- but if it ever came up that I wanted more than what we had right now and he didn’t want that, then everything would fall apart. And you know that, Nat. Everything is perfect the way it is. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize it for anything, not even for my own feelings.” It’s a lie, deep down I know there will always be a part of me yearning, wanting, needing something just out of reach.

Perhaps it is a sacrifice I’d be willing to make. I could be the slaughtered lamb on a pyre, if it meant Bucky would be happy, if it meant he could get love and support and care from me and everyone around him, without me fucking everything up.

We’ve all been together since freshman year, some of us before that. We’re a family. For me to toss it aside in favor of this childish crush, it would be selfish. It would be building your home and setting it on fire, pushing a boulder up a hill just to push it down the same way, it would be Icarus flying into the sun and dying a horrible, fiery death.

“Hon, I love you but you’re really fuckin’ stupid sometimes.” Nat shakes her head with a small laugh.

“Stop it, Nat. I mean it. He’s never said anything about that- us, you know in that way- and… And he was dating that girl a couple months ago- what was her name? Jo-Ann?” I retort quickly, attempting to repress the feelings that arise from her steadfast argument.

“And do you remember when that ended? Less than two days after you and that asshole you were seeing broke up.” She bumps her shoulder against mine to drive her point forward. My eyebrows knit together at that, she’s not wrong. Technically.

“We all knew that was never going to last. She was so mean and self-involved. I mean- I know I can also be those things… and there’s nothing wrong with being a little bitchy and vain but at least when I do it, it’s classy and everyone loves it.” I jest in an attempt to shift her focus away from Bucky and I, but to no avail.

“Come on, hon. We all know why it didn’t work out. The real reason why.”

“Oh yeah, Nat?” I tilt my head to the side curiously. Music bleeds through the vacant space under the door and I can hear Sam singing along to the song, loudly and off key. It makes me smile. “And what is the real reason?”

“Because she wasn’t you.” She lays it out plainly. Her shoulders shrug in an almost exaggerated display of nonchalance.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Natasha. There- there’s no way.” My voice comes out a bit more strained than anticipated and I stand up from my seat on the bathtub.

“Fine, since you clearly don’t want to listen to reason... I’ll drop it for now, but you’ve got to understand that I meant everything I said. We can all see how head over heels he is for you, baby. You just- maybe you should talk to him about it.” She follows my lead in standing up- there’s an air of finality in her voice and I know our conversation is over.

I take the quick reprieve as Nat leaves the restroom to collect my thoughts. If the alcohol in my system didn’t make the room sway slightly, the revelations that Nat unleashed on me certainly did. I rest my hands on either side of the cool, white basin and look at myself in the mirror that stands proudly on the wall. Good god, pull yourself together. An abrupt knock on the door interrupts my much-needed mirror reflection time. “Occupied!” I yell out in the general direction of the door. For fucks sake, I can’t even get a moment of silence to think.

“Sweetheart? You alright in there?” Bucky’s voice sifts through the door and caresses my ears. His tone so soft, so full of warmth and concern- it makes my heart clench in my chest.

“Yeah, just give me a second.” I smooth down my shirt that had crumpled and gathered in the worst possible way as Natasha berated me about my lack of perception and emotional intelligence while we balanced on the edge of the bathtub.

“Can I come in?” He asks, almost tentatively- or at least as tentative as James Buchanan Barnes could sound. I quickly move to unlock the door and I let him in. His hair is slightly damp from what I assume could only be vigorous beer pong playing or dancing drunkenly to the music. Either way, I’m thankful for it. It's hot.

There’s a slight dusting of red along his cheeks, it is amplified as he gives me a lazy smile. “You alright, Birdie? Do I need to be concerned as to why you’re hiding out in the bathroom when you could be dancing or singing or losing to me at beer pong?”

“In your fuckin’ dreams, Jamie. Do I have to remind you about Thor’s Halloween beer pong tournament?” I raise my eyebrows in challenge and step closer to him, my arms folded across my chest.

Bucky lets out an exaggerated scoff, “That was beginner’s luck on your side. Had to be, sweetheart.” He follows suit and takes a small step toward me.

“Beginner’s luck? Three games in a row? I don’t think so, pretty boy.”

He smiles at me, his eyes searching my face. “Pretty boy, huh? That’s new.”

“Don’t change the subject, Barnes. I could beat you blindfolded, with one hand tied behind my back.” Smugness drips off my words and Bucky’s gaze darkens.

“You want to bet, little bird?” He towers over me now, arms on either side of the basin, confining me between him and the cold tile.

“Sure, why not? There’s no way you’d win anyways.” A deceptively sweet smile is plastered on my face in a challenge to him. My heart thumps loudly in my chest. I feel the blood rushing to my ears and butterflies erupt in my stomach. He’s so beautiful, it’s nearly impossible to stop myself from thinking about how much I’d like him to grab my face and kiss me.

“State your terms, sweetheart.” He backs up and folds his arms over each other across his chest.

“One round, first one to no cups wins. We can have one redemption shot each. And when I win… Hmm…” I tap my finger against my lips in contemplation for a moment, “When I win, you have to let me drive your car.”

His eyes widen slightly, and his lips move to form a small ‘o’ shape. “Sweetheart, you- you can’t possibly be serious. I don’t even let Steve drive my car.”

“I’m deadly serious. I’ve had my eye on it for a while now, to be quite honest. I would love to drive her down to the coast… Put the top down, play some trashy pop music on the speakers…” I taunt, my voice low and melodic.

“I…” He starts, but I cut him off before he can argue.

“Unless you’re chicken, that is. You scared, Jamie? Shaking in your boots over your inevitable, devastating loss?”

“No- I mean-” He takes a breath in and lifts his hands in surrender, “Fine. Fine. If you win, you can drive the car down to the beachfront. But I’m ridin’ shotgun.”

“I expected nothing less. It’ll be fun- we’ll make a day of it.” I say with a smile, my eyes light up at that prospect.

“You don’t want to know what I get if I win?” He pivots.

“Nope. Don’t need to. Because it’ll never happen. Come on, let’s play.” I tilt my head in the direction of the door and smirk at him with as much cheek as I could muster.

Bucky grabs my hand, returning the smile. He stops for a moment and stares at me, that same indecipherable look in his eyes from earlier. Our fingers are interlaced, one continuous string moves in between him and I.

It felt as if I’d be able to hear a pin drop, despite the hustle and bustle of the party raging on outside. I move to grab the door handle and exit the restroom when I feel him pull me back towards him. He grips my hand and pulls me flush against his chest.

“Bucky, what are you d-”

“You- I-” He clenches his jaw and exhales sharply. “I just- I wanted to tell you that you look beautiful tonight. Your- uh- your outfit looks good on you.”

“You mean your shirt? You mean to tell me that your most beloved article of clothing looks good universally?” I laugh out nervously, not wanting to mention the proximity.

“No- just on you. It looks- you look fuckin’ incredible, sweetheart.” He flashes me a lopsided smile and gives my shoulders a squeeze. “You can keep it. If you want.”

“You don’t need it? I thought this was your secret weapon that you used to bend all of mankind to your devilishly handsome will?”

“I could do that with or without the shirt, believe me.” He drawls out, the cocky bastard. His smile falters the tiniest bit, unease flashes across his features. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He clenches his jaw one final time and finds my hand again.

“Let's go.” Bucky leads me out of the bathroom to the outskirts of the party. The beer pong table is left uninhabited, red solo cups stacked messily from rounds passed.

Bucky quickly sets up the cups and I fetch the most tolerable beer I can find and start filling the cups in preparation of the battle ahead. I roll my neck and crack my knuckles before we begin- Bucky rolls his eyes at me with a laugh. “You ready, sweetheart?”

“The real question, James, is… are you ready?”

“Just play, smartass.” A cheeky smile appears on his face.

Something is wrong. Dear God, something is horrifyingly and incredibly wrong. Bucky is winning at beer pong. Never, in the history of us, had he even come close to beating me- except for tonight.

“What the fuck, Barnes? Have you been getting private beer pong lessons just for this?” I shoot and miss again. Third time in a row. I haven’t even hit the rim in the past few turns.

Could it be because Thor got too tipsy and spilled his drink all over Bucky’s little conservative long sleeve sweater and he had to go and change into one of those ridiculously stupid, sexy, (did I mention stupid? And also so, so very sexy) wife pleaser vests. His muscles are on full display- arms toned and chest rippling. Dear God. The alcohol buzzing around my system is screaming at me to bite his bicep- surely it wouldn’t be that weird, right? Just a little nibble...

No. What the fuck is wrong with me? I need to get a fucking grip. Perhaps a grip on those sculpted pecs while- No. Not doing that now.

Looking like the cat that ate the canary, Bucky wears the smuggest, filthiest grin on his face. “Oh, sweetheart…” He saunters over to my side of the table and picks up my last red solo cup- there is a small, orange ping pong ball floating tauntingly in the cool brown liquid. He fishes it out with his fingers it and sets it down on the table.

“Drink up.”

I flash him a glare, my eyes narrow as he brings the cup up to my lips. His eyes are trained on me as I gulp down the last of my drink.

“Good. Now let’s discuss my prize.” He removes the cup and wipes away a stray droplet of beer that escaped out the corner of my mouth, with his thumb. Without stopping, he brings that same digit to his lips and licks it. I feel frozen, dumbstruck, and I’m quite sure I look it. My jaw hangs open slightly as I watch him. I gulp, suddenly very thirsty.

“Cocky, weren’t you? Sweetheart?” he smirks and pinches my chin lightly with his pointer finger and his thumb. He gives me a light squeeze and retreats. The touch sends a shiver down my spine, goosebumps erupt down my arms and the delicious burn of desire settles in my stomach.

“Shut up, Barnes. I don’t know which devil you gave your soul to for skills like that, but I have got to say… that seems like a pretty good deal. You're alright." I admit defeat, my shoulders rise and I hold my hands up in surrender. I smile at him cheekily as he approaches. His steps are slow, deliberate. Wrapped in confidence and assuredness.

“So, Jamie. Your prize- what’ll it be?” I ask, after a small beat of silence.

We look at each other for a moment, just a single moment. Although, it doesn't feel that way. Lifetimes could have passed us by, empires could have risen and fallen- and I would still be lost in his eyes. The deep azure pierces my very soul. He blinks and clears his throat, looking to the floor almost embarrassedly.

"Buck? You alright?" I enquire, moving closer to him.

He chuckles and nods his head slowly.

“You know my cousin, Emma? She’s uh- she’s gettin’ married next Saturday and... And I need a date.” Earnest fills his words, and an irresistible, infuriatingly beautiful smile appears on his face.

I have to resist the urge to pinch myself, because this could only be a really fucked up, steamy dream. I’m silent for a beat, trying to comprehend exactly what he said and the implications behind that.

“I mean, sweetheart, only if you want to. If you- uh- like if you’re not into that, I can just go solo.” His voice holds a slight tremble at the end of his sentence. Holy shit- is he nervous?

“No, no! I am- I’d be into that. We can definitely go together.” I reassure him. My heart pounds against my ribcage, my cheeks heat and a bright smile finds its way onto my face.

“It’d just be better for my ma to think I’m seein’ someone. I know she’s gonna try pair me up with her neighbour’s daughter. Again.” His hands are dug deeply in his pockets, his Adams apple bobs as he swallows.

Realisation flashes on my face. Friends. He wants to go as friends who are pretending to be dating. Right, of course.

“Yeah, for sure. Uh- I’ve got you covered, Jamie.” My smile falters, only for a moment. His eyebrows scrunch together, concern flashing across his features. I give him a half-hearted smile.

“Alright, thanks Birdie. You’re a lifesaver.” He removes his hands from his pockets and claps them together. “You want another drink? I can make you somethin’ quick.”

“Sure, yeah. Do you still have that margarita mix? It was yummy.” I suggest, clumsily. I need to find my footing after that absolute emotional rollercoaster, so he will just have to excuse my unbecoming behavior.

People start filtering out one by one and soon, the disco lights are turned off and the soft, warm glow of the lamps fill the living room. I find myself leaning against Bucky on the worn leather couch, exhaustion weighs heavily on me, and I find my eyes flitting shut for a few moments at a time.

“Birdie? You wanna go to bed?” Bucky coos.

I grumble in response, not fully committed to giving him a proper answer.

He chuckles, it’s rich and dark and perfect. “You can take the guest bedroom if you want… Or do you want to sleep here, sweetheart?”

“Bed.” I manage to mumble, with half lidded eyes and a stifled yawn.

“Do you need me to walk you there? You good to do that, baby? Or should I carry you?” His voice is soft, full of compassion. Even drunk and exhausted, it makes my heart swell. I can’t help but smile- it’s lazy and probably not my most picture-perfect smile, but it’s there now.

“Just fucking carry me. I know you want to- you know I want you to.”

He laughs out and hops up to scoop me up from my position on the couch. His strong arms come up under me and Bucky carries me to the guest bedroom, he doesn’t even break a sweat. You’d swear he was a goddamn superhero or something.

Bucky lays me down gingerly and I shift to get comfortable as I feel the softness of the mattress beneath me. “Thank you, sweet Jamie. My sweet… sweet Jamie.” My eyes flutter shut and I nestle into the pillow.

“G’night, Birdie. Sweet dreams.” He leans down and presses a chaste kiss to my forehead. If I'd been more cognizant, perhaps I would've seen the way he smiled down at me from the side of the bed, eyes soft and full of care. Maybe I would have noticed his hesitance to leave, or the way he brought his fist up to his chest and rubbed it soothingly. Perhaps I would've picked up on the fact that his heart burned inside his chest for me, the same way mine did for him.

Hello everyone! This is the first part of my first ever series, I really hope you like it!

Please let me know what you all thought of it!

xoxo, Viv

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