#the couples times ive been its definitely lived up to series
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Relocating to Portland soon... I need to binge Portlandia for mental preparation
#Context#but really tho#why is Portland like that#the couples times ive been its definitely lived up to series
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I love your otto brainrot. He's favorite person to gush about in this series. I also love your analysis about one of the latest chapters and regarding Otto! ust, chef's kiss.
Anyhow, I would also like to add a crack theory about why otto never talked about his dp allowing him to talk to infants too. In this moment, it very much be because, as you said, he wants Spica to be eliminated. But! We're thinking small here. My question morphs into a more general perspective; why would Otto, and tappei to an extent, keep such information about his dp under wraps for this long, way before these Spica shenanigans? And I feel like the author may want to expand on that regard. Because as far as the rest of the crew knows (and as far as I remember), they know he can only talk to animals. But that chapter states he can talk to any living being (?), which I think may hint to it being a bigger fucking deal than we may realize. Like outside the Louis development, as well as Otto's frustration development, this power in of itself can cause a ripple of what Otto's capabilities are, and to not underestimate it.
So, now I wonder, would tappei utilize this tidbit for more development about Otto's power? What do you think?
aa thank you for liking my otto stuff!! i adore him a lot and arc 8 has me even more fixated on him bc his development is so Fascinating.... and also my fictional character type has always been the weird fucked up ones with terrible morals HAH.
OK ALSO LIKE i love your crack theory to bits. i think like the idea of his capabilities being A Little More Massive than they already are hasnt really occurred to me if only bc 1. i have like one braincell at a time and 2. ottos unhinged anger and various ugly habits (ie: doing things behind his friends backs HAH) were smth i was distracted by (positive) bc its so fascinating and now Finally everyone reading rezero knows hes crazy For Sure and 3. i think like. idk ive always kind of thought that his power is like super crazy like once you think about it. like iirc theres the canonical fact that other people in the fantasy world whove had ottos dp have gone like insane from it, so hes Basically the outlier here. and also hes insane anyway but his dp absolutely has partly to do with it. not only bc it like affects so much of his life with the constant overstimulation he experienced for a big chunk of his childhood along with the other effects it had with how he was behind his peers for a while and it made him socially awkward and anxious - but also like.
animals Are insane. a lot. genuinely. and then you have a power that allows you to understand them and hear their voices all the time. (more under read more bc its Long.)
theres so many fucked up animal facts out there HAH so i suppose that could just take like a couple google searches (god.... if oceans were in the fantasy world otto might go a little insane with all those sea creatures if he ever came close...) but i always feel like ottos learned at least a bit of his ruthlessness from that. and hes Definitely seen and heard shit (dont forget stuff like livestock ahah T^TT or bug infestations or something aljsdfls or the fact that otto would probably be seeing animal friends eat other animal friends or before he even knew he had his dp he could be eating some cattle he had a convo with like twenty minutes ago and ALSO garf and fred have their meat pie recipe that they adore and its like. that meat came from an animal and otto has most likely seen them make their meat pie before). but like nature is nature. its not always. Nice. survival of the fittest and things just die sometimes (ottos made various animal friends throughout his life and Many animals have smaller lifespans than him as well + some, such as bugs, are more fragile than him) and animals take actions according to their Nature (even if its. Bad, by human moral standards.) and all that - so i think the double whammy of ottos dp and him taking on merchant ideals is very much partly why hes so insane fr HAH.
I WENT A LITTLE OFF TOPIC BUT no yeah i agree. and i just think his dp has always been such a huge factor in what makes him so dangerous - its not only helped mold him into who he is as a person (especially when you remember that the rest of his family are Normal People and he Very Much Is Not Normal) but also like you said. his dp makes him extremely dangerous especially with the new information that he understands babies. iirc otto didnt Necessarily keep that bit of info under wraps - at least not before he met the emilia camp, bc the text said something about how hed take on side jobs where he babysat infants and hed be good at it bc he can understand the intent behind their wordless "words". and i definitely think otto - and tappei - havent really said anything on his ability to talk to infants before this bc it just hasnt come up in much relevant context until now. BUT I ALSO THINK YOU HAVE A POINT bc this does open like. a bit of a can of worms. theres these 2019 tappei qnas where he talks a bit about otto understanding "intent" -
Q: Is Otto's Blessing of the Spirit of Words limited to sounds that the speaker understands? Can he translate something Subaru wrote down in Japanese, or something that someone reads out loud phonetically without understanding it's meaning?
A: He can't. It's a blessing that conveys the intent of the other person's words, so if you said something like "Honbaradaratodetta", it wouldn't mean anything. It's just that, if Subaru had been saying "Honbaradaratodetta" for years to mean "What's for dinner?", it would convey that.
Q: About the "Blessing of the Spirit of Words" that Otto has, in cases where the same word can contain different meanings, can he discern the difference? (The English word 'servant' and a servant from Fate, etc.)
A: It's not the letters, but the speaker's intent that he picks up, so he could tell the difference.
--
but no yeah like........ ottos dp is specifically about Animals and well. humans and demihumans ARE animals. so it makes sense that it carries into humans and demihumans a bit so the whole catching someones intent thing is super fascinating and i feel like he could Definitely utilize it for more of his schemes?? esp when you combine that with the usual ways he uses his dp with animals - his power is Perfect for spying on others and gathering info in general. from my understanding of his power though, animals have to agree to help him, but given he can communicate with them and hes. well hes a good talker and also a bit of a manipulative bitch (affectionate) so like getting animals to help him doesnt seem like too much of an issue usually for him. so no but yeah his power is like. Off the Charts. and now we got big confirmation in the main story that he can UNDERSTAND PEOPLES INTENT BEHIND THEIR WORDS....? no yeah i think tappei will at least utilize it for the louis-spica plot things (ie otto wants her dead so hes just not gonna say anything about how he knows her true intent isnt to actually hurt anyone).
but i feel like otto could possibly use it for plans... or accidentally catch tidbits of info he shouldnt. im not entirely sure how, but. well. roswaal still hasnt delivered on his promise to kill everyone if even one person subaru cares about dies and Now roswaal knows that 1. otto plans to continue opposing subaru and emilia and keep pulling strings and 2. subaru wants louis to stay alive because he cares about her. it seems like massive emilia camp inner conflict is bound to happen at some point hah... the current situation is a ticking time bomb T^T and thats ON TOP of otto still working on restoring the book of wisdom... it all makes me wonder if otto will overhear a convo he shouldnt and catch the true underlying intent to otherwise innocent dialogue. or something like that.... or if louis's intent fluctuates in some way which otto will be Very aware of. if that happens. or if someone else somehow figures out ottos hiding the fact that he knows louis is innocent via his dp alsdjflsjdf. or maybe roswaal hints at his genocide plan and otto figures out the intent???? everyone is at a stalemate atm fr and im fascinated to see what comes next.
though. ok given otto went insane hearing the white whale..... well you could just fling mabeasts at him and maybe he'll shut up lajsdlfj bc using his dp (especially when overusing it gives him nosebleeds and headaches and pain and etc etc) against him is a Viable strategy to stop him among many others but like. the problem with otto is that hes persistent and Will hold a grudge against you if you wrong him. like i really do feel like he will hunt you down if you do which is the big Thing with otto. T^T hes unpredictable!!! especially now with arc 8 where hes been dragged through all these dangerous situations he did not sign up for and he just wants him and his friends to be safe but said friends want to save a whole country and NOW a sin archbishop alsdjflsjd.
like i really feel that hes so tired of things happening throughout his life out of control (remember his bad luck T^T and the way his dp used to fuck him over in his childhood? yeah T^T) that hes been trying to exert more and more control over his camp. bc like. vincent asking the emilia camp for help was nudged into that direction by otto. ottos also stepped a bit out of line by being hostile to julius and anastasia bc. otto that shit was unncessary aljsdlfjd theyre your camps allies!!!! and now ottos letting his camp be sus of louis by keeping quiet about her true intent. like otto is straight up like. hes kind of possessive of his camp isnt he? bc hes so fixated on making things go the way he wants (not that he wanted to help vollachia, but he wanted to help subaru and emilia which is why he pushed things in that direction, and now he wants to kill louis). it all makes me wonder if he'll ever have to use his dp against his camp given hes. kind of already doing that by lying to them - though itd probably be difficult to use his dp more actively against them if only bc they all already know what his dp is. theres no element of surprise there, but i think with the right circumstances he could possibly use it to figure out Something at least. bc like while he Does feel guilty, there is next to nothing stopping him from doing more shit on top of the shit hes been doing so far in arc 8 HAH. his moral compass is just literally broken and pointing straight down to hell. that mixed with his stubbornness and intellect and anger is like. well anyone going against otto is pretty fucked.
like. what is stopping him from sending a little bug to spy on subaru at all times. probably the fact that subaru and co. have a high chance of maybe noticing it and noticing that ottos keeping. too close of an eye on them. which would stop otto and his new declared "i walk in darkness" goal but all of this keeps making me wonder what lines otto WONT cross. and how far hes willing to go to do what he thinks is necessary to save his camp. and also what the consequences of his decisions will be.
but also like............................................... ok time for a crack theory of my own are you ready. anyway. can you imagine if ottos dp extended into fucking mind reading or something............ HAH.
#otto suwen#rezero#ask#this is a long response and it went a tiny bit off topic at a few points but i hope this made sense aljdslfjs#i dont have like. hyper specific predictions. but the detail that otto understands infants... and intent behind words in general... def#seems like a very specific writing choice fr. like tappei couldve simply said that ottos dp only extends to Animals animals. and not#humanoids. and i know tappei did the whole understands infants thing for the louis spica plot but like you im also wondering if he'll#utilize this part of ottos power more!!!#theres definitely a potential there. for sure.#arc 8 spoilers#but no yeah like ive been thinking about how ottos dp affects his psychology fr. like its not really talked about much past the overstimula#ion which makes sense bc thats affected SO MUCH of his life... but i also think that the. you know. understanding every animal ever is you#know kind of fucked up. once you think about it.#he got the ultimate cocktail of animal morality + merchant ideals and now hes got the moral compass of a chocolate eclair. except he ate th#chocolate eclair and then went welp guess my bffs new daughter figure kind of has to die haha :/#like. otto had to have understood death from a young age bc of his dp right?? like can you imagine. you see a bug crash too hard into somet#hing and you hear it die. you are like five. oh my god fr.
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hiii okay i just started reading opddmh and i was wondering if you have any thoughts about komaru and toko's relationship and udg in relation to the virtual reality au you're writing? :3c they are so precious to me and if u dont have any thoughts on it thats fine!! just wondering <3 have a good day!!
OOOO DEFINITELY !!! nothing too complex or thought out but ive definitely got some thoughts on it >:)
first things first ultra despair girls is most certainly some kind of spinoff in this universe! so its not considered a main storyline/killing game however it is still on ongoing series! i imagine after 53 seasons the danganronpa timeline has been seriously fucked up and udg is absolutely one of the main reasons its so wonky, you can IMAGINE all of the conspiracy youtube videos trying to piece that shit together lmfaooooo. but yep udg is a running spinoff series starring toko, komaru, and the warriors of hope (who are teenagers in this au at this point!!). it also features a range of other villains and side characters that were introduced later on :] udg definitely isnt as popular nor is it as consistent in its production as the main danganronpa story is (while danganronpa has at least one season per year, udg has one maybe every three), but it still gets a whole lot of views !! which means toko and komaru are unfortunately in it for the long haul </3
they live seperate from each other however they're over at each others apartments so often that they basically live together LMFAO. they rely on each other SO so heavily. i personally think they have romantic feelings somewhere underneath their fear of losing each other to the mental trauma of danganronpa however there is NO WAY danganronpa would ever let them be a couple. the most theyre allowed to do is queerbait ghfdsjkghjkdf. if they confirm anything between the pair they are destroying an entire market of fans they can profit off of and also likely losing hella sponsorship money. its extremely difficult navigating a relationship like that, where they have become so heavily codependent on each other not only because their wellbeing relies on the other being healthy and well but also because they've grown so close it's impossible to imagine a future where the other isnt involved somehow. everything danganronpa has put them through, it has usually been TOGETHER, which means they've bonded through those experiences. is that healthy? absolutely the fuck it is not however there is no time or space to navigate that or to spend time away from each other (even if they wanted to, which they don't)!!
the pair stay relatively close with the warriors of hope-- or at least komaru does lmfaooo. like i said before the warriors of hope are teenagers at this point (honestly theyre probably mius age!! which sparks a lot of hypothetical interactions LMAO) so they dont really need babysitters or anything like that but because there are not very many people who could possibly understand what they've gone through they tend to stick together!! a few of them, at least. i imagine nagisa is a lot more distant and kotoko probably has other friends she talks to a whole ton :] people that arent constant walking reminders of her current and past traumas lol
komaru also doesnt talk to makoto as often anymore! they kind of keep in touch and definitely see each other at press conferences and all that, but the relationship has become somewhat strained. its a bit awkward knowing they arent actually related!! theyre still kind to each other and care about each other like actual siblings but its hard not to feel sad around the other unfortunately :(
and toko definitely doesnt talk to byakuya much anymore besides the occasional promotional material LMFAO. they dont despise each other but both have done a lot of growing and a lot of that included distancing themselves from each other
SORRY IF THAT WAS MORE THAN YOU ASKED FOR!!! THANK YOU <33
#THANKS FOR THE QUESTION I LOVE ANSWERING <3#“nothing too complex or thought out” answers with an essay#ask lee#opddmh#kukizuchis
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Hii! Im the anon that asked about watching F1, thank you for the lengthy answer I really appreciate it!
Karting is so fun but I never realised before going how hard it was on your body. It’s difficult to imagine how these F1 drivers do it tbh, it’s crazy!!
I ended up watching the Suzuka race live after sending in the ask and you’re right I did learn a lot just from watching it (also crash almost gave me a heart attack, was not expecting anything like that to happen..). I really love learning about the strategy, I never realised how much really goes into racing before this. I read a few more chapters of the fic too and learned a lot from that. Actually I really love learning about racing in general just from the fic it makes it a bit more digestible when there’s so much to learn.
I have adhd too so I totally get not being able to like things normally haha.. I’ve spent all of today so far reading about F1 and I’m looking into tickets for the British GP since it’s somewhat close to where I live (which is funny bc less than 48hrs ago all F1 is to me is cars go zoom..). I blame your fic but in a good way! I’m really glad I started reading it, I already feel like this is gonna be my new obsession.
And as it turns out one of my friends used to watch a bunch of races at the Shanghai circuit so I’ll have someone to annoy with questions for the Chinese GP, I’m really excited to watch that! I still don’t know in what ways the track influences the race technically, but what an interesting looking track! It looks like it’d be fun to drive on that.
Also can I ask why you like and support Ferrari and Leclerc in particular? And do you think they could win this year? Since from what I see Verstappen/Red Bull Racing have been stuck in the top spot the past 3 years
Thanks again for your answer!
so many opportunities to yap about f1….
lap 1 incidents are pretty common, but suzuka in particular has a very high rate of safety car use (ie crashes occuring) because its so technical and driver heavy. its one of my fav tracks for this reason!
silverstone is a brilliant track and the atmosphere is amazing - its one of the classics! however what i will say is that the prices are EXTREMELY inflated. if ur european (even if you live IN england) its cheaper to go to races abroad if thats an option because silverstone is SOOO expensive. ive never been to a race bc of money but if you can spare it silverstone is definitely one of the best especially in terms of the racing.
tracks influence a couple of things : drivers and cars. mostly cars, since f1 (unlike f2 and f3) is equally a constructors series. there are a bunch of concepts that effect how a car will perform on a certain track, but the main ones are downforce and straight line speed. downforce mainly effects cornering. diff tracks will have corners that are taken at different speeds (high speed v low speed corners) and different cars will be weak or strong through corners depending on their characteristics (RBR last year was weak in low speed corners, hence singapore being SO bad for them, and mclaren was in incredibly strong in the high speed corners (qatar, japan) but lacked straight line speed, making them weaker in other places.
why ferrari? the legacy. micheal schumacher won 5 of his WDCs with them, the iconic red, the passion. it feels like a cult and i love it
leclerc… oh my god leclerc. first of all i just think hes a little bit funny in an insane way. but aside from that, he won f3 as a rookie, then won f2 as a rookie. that is RARE. only Rosberg (WDC 2016) Lewis Hamilton (7x WDC), Nico Hulkenberg (uuh), George Russell and Oscar Piastri have won the support series as a rookie, and of those only hamilton, russell, piastri and leclerc won f3 / f2 or their equivalents back to back. (f1 fans u can correct me if im wrong on this)
his f2 performance is the most dominant of all time. the sprint win in bahrain 2017 (f2) was genuinely one of the most jaw dropping pieces of racing ive ever seen. he went to sauber (midfield/backmarker team) in 2018 for his first year in f1 and scored the vast majority of the team’s points - 39. 39 points in that car was insane. he signed to ferrari in 2019 as a second driver to 4x WDC sebastian vettel. instead of backing down and playing nice, he then proceeded to outqualify him over two seasons, and outrace him too. his win in monza 2019 is POETRY in motion. verstappen rates him very highly and said in 2018 that he hopes theyll have a rivalry like hamilton and vettel. god he makes me INSANE
as to whether ferrari/leclerc can win this season… i wouldnt be a fan if i didnt say yes. RBR bought a major floor update to suzuka and they still didnt run away as much as last year (at least perez, verstappen is inhuman). despite having a couple of poor qualifying runs, leclerc is racing at an incredibly high level and is on pace with verstappen. with a strategy generally considered slower (and definitely much more difficult) he advanced from P8 to P4 today. vassuer (the ferrari team principal) has said hes optimistic about the upgrade trajectory, and that it can be developed aggressively. those first upgrades will come in Imola.
basically the season is long. max had a dnf in australia and leclerc is still within touching distance of perez. i think we need a little luck but it could be possible if the upgrades go well. leclerc couldve fought for P2 today with a decent quali. (charles also seems to do really well on sprint weeks. and china is a sprint week) :)
tbh though i think the real battles will come in 2025 and 2026. leclerc v hamilton in equal machinery, and then ferrari v RBR:3
thankyou anon<3
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if anyones curious, heres a big ol list of anime horror ive enjoyed that dont revolve entirely around cute children being harmed for shock:
paranoia agent: an awesome single-season show thats perfect to binge-watch imo. it follows the interwoven stories of several victims of the phantom figure known as shonen bat who takes the form of a child in rollerskates and attacks strangers with his beat up baseball bat. the only thing that seems to connect these victims is that they are visited by him in a moment of absolute desperation, and somehow their lives seem to improve after being attacked. to say anything else would ruin the mystery. give it a shot. this series owns and the intro music is iconic.
perfect blue: i feel like everyone who likes animated horror already knows about perfect blue but if not, you absolutely should. a suspense heavy, brain-breaking thriller about an ex-pop-idol who quits to become an actress, only to be haunted by a mirror version of herself who is less than happy with her decision. her grasp on reality starts to slip as the pressures of her new job and a string of violent murders slowly chip away at her sanity. definitely mind the content warnings for this one.
yamishibai: an anthology series of short scary stories presented with fun, simplistic animation. every episode is fairly short iirc so its very easy to just plow through the whole series. especially good if ur the type to enjoy a classic ghost story.
serial experiments lain: sort of hard to explain. this is another like Classic. it is about a highschool girl so i am sort of breaking my own rules here but like the vibe is entirely different then what you might expect. its a trippy, deeply weird series from 1998 about the ways technology may begin to encroach on our lives and shape our identity. i really love older media that speculates about the ways our relationship with tech might develop in the future. if you like scifi and psychological aspects to your horror, you will probably like this.
pet shop of horrors: i havent actually seen the anime so i dont know how well it holds up but i was obsessed with the manga as a Youth and id recommend at least giving the series a look. anthology-like with a connecting thread of a spooky pet shop where rare exotic and sometimes deadly creatures are sold.
lily c.a.t.: its alien except its not. scifi horror about the crew and passengers of a spaceship whos interstellar journey is thrown off course by a shape-shifting alien invader. literally if you like alien or the thing or anything like that, this is that but animated. i think the strongest thing about this one isnt necessarily the horror of the alien itself but the horror of being stranded, far from home and trapped in a confined space with a bunch of near strangers and a massive yawning void just outside your window. there are some moments in lily cat that just made me think about how huge and unforgiving not only space but the passage of time is and im honestly still a little freaked.
akira: i mean, obviously. i dont know what i could say about this that hasnt already been said except this is the movie that made me start getting into body horror. its beautiful, its horrific, its a fucking staple of dystopia fiction. i guess you could argue its more scifi/action than traditional horror in a lot of ways, but some of the stuff near the end (that i def saw when i was too young to be watching this) taught me a whole new definition of fear so. do with that what u will i guess.
there are a couple more i cant remember the names of right now so ill come back to this if my brain ever decides to start working again. almost all of these contain some really heavy subjects so be careful and seek out content warnings if you need to.
also i dont really care about subs vs dubs arguments but a lot of these are on the slightly older side and as a result some of the english voice acting work is... not great. either way do what feels right to you just keep that in mind.
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Group Ask 186
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Please reply to this post if you know one of the fics mentioned in this ask. Thank you so much in advance!
Anonymous 1 asked:
hey ive been looking for a fic for ages where bucky and steve are in an established relationship but the rest of the avengers dont know so they try and tell them that being gay is cool and that they should date. sam doesnt think that tony should do this but he does anyway and steve and bucky decide to tell sam cause they feel bad. i think it was multichap if that helps :)
Anonymous 2 asked:
Hello! Firstly, thank you, I've been scrolling through your blog & have found so many new fics that I love! I think my last asks got eaten by Tumblr but I've been trying to find a fic for weeks & am hoping you guys can help. It's shrunkyclunks w/college student Bucky. Bucky's writing a paper/thesis on a historical figure when he meets Steve in a cafe Becca works at. It's a BDSM fic w/dom Steve. I remember Bucky comforts Steve on a jet. Bucky ends up opening a museum for avengers at the end.
Anonymous 3 asked:
Hi, I'm looking for a fic w/married Bucky&Steve but the team doesn't realize it. 1st chapter is snippets of the team thinking that Bucky/Steve are really close for friends. I remember Nat/Clint having a dance-off with Bucky/Steve and marvelling at how into each other they are. Wanda going to Steve for help & Bucky's already there so they both talk to her. At the end the entire team gathers in front of Steve's room bc he has someone over and it turns out its Bucky. 2nd chapter is pure smut. Ty!!
Anonymous 4 asked:
hi! I'm looking for a fic I read a while ago. it's a slice of life kinda thing where they have a couple kids and I remember that at one point Steve gets mad at Bucky for not giving up smoking. I think it's multi chapter and the rating is explicit... than you!!
angry-aliens asked:
hi !! a while back i read a fic where bucky was sleeping in steve’s apartment when he wasn’t home and steve finds out
farraige25 asked:
I was hoping you could put this to the hive mind, cause I only remember one small detail of the fic, that Bucky has a perineum piercing of three bars like a ladder & Steve thinks that it’s kinda cute. It’s not in the piercing or punk library tags. I’m pretty sure it’s bottom & modern Bucky with Cap Steve and it’s explicit, but those are all maybes. The only definite is Bucky’s piercing. If anyone knows it off the top of their head, that would be amazing. Thank you!
Anonymous 5 asked:
Hey guys, there's a fic I've been trying to find but I only remember a specific snippet of it. It's Steve recalling how Bucky always got involved in fights he started except for one time where someone called him the K slur (Bucky's Jewish in this fic) and he borderline beats him within an inch of his life and tells him to "call me that again, motherfucker, call me that again" or something along those lines.
theheartofmaria asked:
Hello! I’m looking for a fic that I’m sure is set I modern times , stucky is established. Basically Bucky makes it a game to guess presents from Steve but it actually upsets Steve and he has a breakdown over it and stays with sam?? It might be temporary break up but can’t remember. Ithink it’s a 3 part series but I can’t find it, could you help please
delicatesleeper asked:
I've been thinking of this fic I read a long while ago; it was Alpha Bucky and Omega Steve and they mated before Bucky went to war. I remember Steve's mating mark was on his ribs and Bucky's was on his left bicep. I remember that when they met again after, Steve's bond mark would react to Bucky but Bucky's couldn't bc he lost his arm. I don't remember much but hopefully its enough for you guys, sorry. Thank you!
lolibeansie asked:
I was literally just the fic about Bucky being back and living with the avengers and Steve making all of those little love drawings for him to make him feel safe and welcome?? Wtf is that nammmeee😅
Anonymous 6 asked:
hi!! love u guys lots!! would you be able to find this fic where steve is jealous of bucky and tony's friendship bc he remembers that bucky and howard might've been in a relationship? i've looked through all the tags i could think of and didn't find any 😔😔 i know it's not "coming clean" by cleo4u2
Anonymous 7 asked:
Looking for a fic where Bucky responds to a Craigslist ad and ends up teaching self defense at a rec center. I remember he painted his nails and asked the kids he was teaching their pronouns. Thanks!
Anonymous 8 asked:
Hellooo I actually have two lost fics (sorry), and was hoping you guys (Stucky fic gods) could help me out (bc you’re darlings and so helpful). One was about a trip to a cinema gone wrong, post-serum Steve, and side Clintasha. Sam was there too, I think? Second was about Bucky thinking that his feelings for Steve were unrequited, they’re best mates, the was a photo album in there somewhere? Fourth of July boxers? and them finally getting together after Natasha and her coworkers fake arrest them.
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pt.1: the swapping begins
-> 4-fking-am masterlist <-
b:katsuki / f.reader
genre: neighbor au, pro-hero bakugou
warning(s)!!: bakugou's potty mouth (ofc)
status: on-going!
synopsis: you had just moved into your new apartment and like every other college student under the sun, you had the worst sleep scheudle known to man. due to this, you find yourself playing music through your speakers at 4 am. your neighbor slides you a note under your door about your ‘shitty’ taste in music, thus the note swaps begin.
a/n: the first part has arrived! hopefully, updates on this particular series won't be so drawn out since i'm planning to keep all written parts on the shorter side along with the smau parts being just easier since it's all just dialog LOL (ive done smau in the past for other things but they weren't so hot but hopefully i'm better now lol rip)
-x-x-x-
w.count: 1.3k
-x-x-x-
Why did you decide to go back to school to pursue further education again? If it wasn’t to stress yourself into early grey hairs or to rip out those grey hairs until you were bald, then why?
Collapsing over your desk- textbook open and notes out in messy piles with doodles across every edge and corner from wandering concentration- you groan. Exams were right around the corner, but you couldn’t for the life of you get your brain to focus on one thing- much less multiple things- for more than a couple hours, so studying quickly turned into a failed attempt to study.
Normally, studying wasn’t so difficult for you and you actually found it therapeutic in its own weird way. You enjoyed learning new things and the pride and wholeness you felt after succeeding to teach yourself something new was well worth whatever the process to get there was to you. But, this current college burnout was making all those end results hard to get to.
You glanced at the clock on one of the elevated shelves of your desk, the dimly glowing orange letters showing the time of 3:54 am. You groaned again, pushing your forehead into your written words and definitely smearing pencil lead on your forehead while you were at it. Maybe you’d soak up the words this way and have the knowledge transferred automatically into your brain if you pushed just hard enough.
Another dull and unrelenting amount of minutes pass you by before you officially call it quits for the night. Giving up, you walked to the other side of the room and plopped down on your bed’s edge next to one of your nightstands, your wrist rubbing your forehead to hopefully clear away the mess of leftover lead on it. On this nightstand was your radio and beneath it along the shelves and below the drawer was a collection of CDs.
In a world where albums were digital and everything was Bluetooth compatible and no one carried around a portable CD player anymore, you felt somewhat awkward sometimes at the seemingly large and ridiculous collection of yours. There were still plenty of people with CDs and even vinyls, but still- the awkwardness of your ‘retro’ thinking at your age did make you feel a bit self-conscious; no matter how idiotic it sounded.
You leaned over the bed and down to the bottom shelf cubby and grabbed a thin, plastic album case. Popping it open, the cheap plastic threatened to break and bend as you pushed open the top of your radio and placed the CD inside, shutting it again and turning it on.
A small little baby blue boombox that resembled a sort of bubble-like structure- a late birthday gift from your friends back in your hometown.
You figured if you didn’t absolutely blast your music, it would be fine to play aloud. Plus, you decided to put your bedroom in the backmost room, and the second room closer to the front room of your apartment was used for storage- since renting a storage unit was way too expensive. In your mind, the room closet to the door for a single living tenant would definitely be their bedroom- so you did the opposite when you moved in.
With your legs still handing off the side of the bed, you threw yourself back onto the mattress with your arms out to your sides. You stared at the ceiling of your room, thinking that at some point you’d need to purchase some cheap glow-in-the-dark stars to tack up there just for nostalgia’s sake.
As you heard the radio read the CD in small hums, you shut your eyes and smiled when the first track started. To be honest, you weren’t really pressed for what music you were going to be listening to, so you just kinda pulled from your cubby and popped the CD in without even looking at what you grabbed. You almost laughed when an older album your mom used to listen to started playing.
You weren’t exactly sure how it happened or when, but the next thing you knew, you were staring blankly and tiredly up to your ceiling again. The sun outside had risen and you heard birds, outside chatter, and basic roadside living outside. Even being up on the fourth floor, you could still hear the world below fairly well since you almost always had your window open with a fan inside of it.
Your body was sore from how you were laying on your back with your arms out, and you felt stiff. Legs partially numb from hanging off the bed all morning when you turned to look at your clock on the desk with squinted eyes.
Almost noon.
“God,” you moaned, forcing yourself up and wobbly making a path out of your room and into the kitchen to solve the problem of your severe cottonmouth. Stepping out of your narrow, short hall, you yawned and stopped before stepping into the kitchen when you saw a note at your doorstep. It had been slid under the front door and was face down, small blotches of black bled through to show that the other side had something written on it in marker.
More intrigued with the mysterious note than ready to deal with your dry mouth and throat that demanded water, you trotted to the paper and flicked it up. Your eyes quickly scanned the note and you gasped, slightly slapping a hand over your mouth.
‘Your taste in music really fuckin’ sucks’
Oh my god, someone heard that? Were you too loud? Was it annoying? Who in their right mind has the further room from the door other than you who did it on purpose so that this situation could be specifically avoided? Would you need to move rooms? No, then you’d have your other neighbors slipping you notes or even knocking on your door.
Maybe this neighbor has a roommate and had no choice but to take the room furthest from the door. Would you need to move out now before you died from overthinking the situation?
Racing back into your room, you tore out a sheet of lined paper and a mark erfrom your jar of pens, pencils, highlightser, what have you, and began to write in large letters a note back.
‘I’m so sorry about the noise! I’ll make sure not to play it that ungodly early again! (also, no it doesn’t, my taste in music is fine).’
You felt a little silly putting the added small text at the bottom of the paper in parentheses, but you felt the need to nip this particular neighbor’s opinion about your music in the butt- you boiled the choice down to comedies sake.
Making your way back to your door, you unlocked the bolt and unlatched the chain as you poked your head out. For it being almost the middle of the day, you made sure no one was in the halls before you jogged out your door and to the left. Your room was the furthest left room and they heard it, so clearly it had to be the left side neighbor... right?
Taking one last left-to-right look down the hall, you knelt at the door, pushed your paper under it, and dashed back into your own apartment before locking it back up. You let out a breath, as you pushed your back into the door, feeling awkward and almost embarrassed at the idea of passing notes with your neighbor. Trying to be secretive about it and acting like if someone saw you push a note under their door you’d be looked at strangely.
In a somewhat awkward way, you felt like some weird criminal.
“Whatever,” you shook your head, slapping your hands on your cheeks and heading to the kitchen. Finally ready to get that glass of water you had been craving to soothe your aching throat with. You had other things to get done today anyway. Now that you were awake, better get your day started.
Even if you may have just completely fucked your sleep schedule.
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death march matt Murdock x reader
+++++++++
this one has been in the drafts for a bit and i finally finished it so i hope you guys enjoy. writing has been slow recently as i havent had much free time and am still trying to rewatch all the netflix marvel series. but i am still working on requests and stories that ive had started for about a month so hopefully the rest will be out soon, along with some frank castle stories now that ive reached the first season of the punisher
prompts: "You need sleep." "I get sleep" "getting knocked unconscious does not count as sleep"
song: saints of the blood by black veil brides
tag list: @cynic-spirit @juniebugg
+++++++++
i sat back on my knees and groaned. matt and i were both covered in blood and he was still writhing around on the ground. but the men around us that were out made me a little proud of all that we'd done. it had been weeks of tracking them down, taking out one ninja at a time until we found were they were all hiding.
"i need a vacation."
he noted as he got to his knees and i laughed.
"you and me both D."
he laughed back as he stood, almost doubling over as he clutched his side. i was quick to stand then, helping him, steadying him.
"whoa, hold up there daredevil, i saw that last punch. broken ribs isn't gonna get you anywhere."
he inhaled sharply.
"and what do you suggest i do?"
i snorted.
"you know the answer to that already."
he shook his head as we limped towards the door together.
"yeah, i shouldn't have asked."
°°°°°°°°°
when we got back to the apartment i was quick to get him to the couch. every move earned a hiss from deep in his chest as i tried to get his jacket off. i figured his ribs were broke but i was more worried about the cuts and stab wounds.
"alright human x-ray, what's the damage?"
he sat quietly for a moment and listened. then he closed his eyes and sighed.
"what do you think?"
i touched his side lightly.
"oh yeah, they're definitely broken. but there's something else. what is it?"
he blinked slowly before wincing as he tried to resituate himself on the couch.
"the cut below my rib is almost deep enough for it to come out."
i made a gross face.
"so maybe this time we really should get you to a hospital."
"no."
he said quickly and i sent him a look.
"matt, if i don't there's a good chance you'll die."
"no hospital."
i bit my tongue as he laid back.
"fine, ill do the best i can but if you if you start fading on me im doing it. this job is bigger than me, and Claire for that matter."
his jaw tightened.
"what would we even tell them? you're not in any better shape."
his breathing was shaky and staggered. i looked to my knuckles on my right hand as i held the cloth to his open wound. at this point i couldn't tell what was my blood, what was his blood, or what was the blood from the men we'd fought in the back of that abandoned warehouse. and then i looked to my left hand, god it was so much worse. my first two fingers were for sure broken, my wrist not in any better shape, and i had a gash almost the length of the back my arm.
"ill think of something, but right now we need to focus on getting you out of this outfit and keeping you from bleeding out. i don't need the paramedics figuring out what we both do in our free time."
°°°°°°°°°
as i sat in the chair beside matt i tried my hardest not to fall asleep. the beep of his heart monitor was very lulling and the morphine they had given me didn't help. it was a little amusing though to look at the two of us; we practically looked like mummies with how wrapped we were. my left hand was broken in eight places, my wrist in two. the cut on my arm was deep enough to need stitches near my elbow but nowhere else, thank god.
"y/n."
i heard him say quietly and i sat up abruptly, no longer tired.
"im here matt, its okay."
i said softly, taking his hand in mine.
"where are we?"
he asked and i let out a laugh.
"metro general."
he deadpanned.
"i thought i told you-"
"i know i know, but i was losing you. i kept checking your heartbeat but you were losing too much blood. and i couldn't live with myself if id let you die. not after all that hard work."
i said the last bit with a hint of amusement and luckily he smiled back.
"what did you tell them?"
i let out a nervous laugh.
"i told them we were walking home through a bad part of town and got jumped, pushed into a back alley by a couple guys, large and in masks. i told them that they all looked the same, same height, same clothes, and only one of them spoke; that he demanded we give him all that we had on us. i told them that you tried to be brave and push me out of the way and that they didn't like that; that they beat you up, attacked you, then attacked me and once they got me on the ground stomped on my hand and ran."
he nodded solemnly; rubbing his thumb over the back of my right hand. the bruises were prominent still, cuts deep to the bone that i hadn't let anyone see since we'd been here the last ten hours.
"that's one hell of a story."
"as far as they know it was one hell of a fight. but you're still my hero; stupid and stubborn, but still a hero."
he smiled, almost laughing but groaning in pain and rolling his head back against the pillows.
"hey, take it easy, you need to heal, You need sleep."
"I get sleep."
he said matter-of-factly and i sent him a look.
"matt, getting knocked unconscious does not count as sleep."
he looked to the ceiling and swallowed hard.
"look, ill call foggy and Karen and tell them you were awake and they can visit later but for now you need all the rest you can get. you lost a lot of blood, and i know you, you'll want to get back out there as soon as possible. but for right now i think its okay to let the others handle the city for a bit. ill talk to Trish, see what she can do with Jessica's help. you know Danny would be willing to do something."
he shook his head.
"no, don't, its fine, I'm fine."
"Matthew, you have three broken ribs, a punctured lung, and you almost got sliced all the way through. I'm calling at least one of your super friends to take the mantle for a couple weeks. hells kitchen survived over a year without the mask, I'm sure it can survive a little longer. just until you're healed."
he sighed, closing his eyes again.
"i hate when you're right."
i smiled, squeezing his hand lightly.
"if that were true, you wouldn't have married me."
i stood up and kissed his forehead.
"Mrs. Murdock, the voice of reason."
he said softly and i leaned down and kissed him properly.
"keeping the love of my life alive one day at a time."
"thank you."
i studied him for a moment as i stood back up.
"get some sleep, ill be right here when you wake up."
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dance me to the end of love (iv)
word count: 4.1k
warnings: fem!oc, cursing, alcohol consumption
series masterpost: here
a/n: my apologies for the delay!! life got crazy for a bit but i'm back with my two favourite idiot intellectuals
Magdalene stays busy to keep the loneliness at bay.
All of her friends have left Denver, doing whatever it is that hockey players and their partners do in the off-season. She never expected them to stay to keep her company, and would certainly never ask. Besides, they were all so excited to go home and visit family. How could she disrupt their happiness just so she wouldn’t feel so alone? It isn’t her fault that Ryan, Bette, and company aren’t estranged from their families like she is. At twenty-five she should be a little more self sufficient than what she currently is, but Magdalene is working hard at being kinder to herself.
To combat the pervasive loneliness Magdalene spends a lot of time in the heart of downtown Denver. Under normal circumstances she would hate the crowds, but now they comfort her. The swaths of tourists walking the streets and approaching her to take family photos make her feel like a part of something bigger than the pity she finds herself wallowing in often. Barn Owl Books also becomes a frequent retreat when she has downtime, and the owners enjoy when she brings Caligula around. Other patrons adore the white cat and he loves the attention.
One day as she’s leaving work, once again offering to stay late so June doesn’t have to, Magdalene’s phone rings. She contemplates not picking it up, wanting nothing more than to curl into bed with the novel she picked up at Barn Owl the other day, but she knows it must be important. No one ever calls her around this time unless it’s absolutely necessary. Digging the phone out of her pocket, she sees the number of her building superintendent Paul flashing on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Miss Stevenson?” he asks, voice tinged with the toughness that comes with dealing with upset renters on a regular basis.
Magdalene chuckles at the formality, pointing out he hasn’t called her by her last name since she moved in five years ago. “Yeah Paul, it’s me. What’s up?”
There’s the crackle of static on the phone line as the man clears his throat. “So, uh, some bad news.” Magdalene’s stomach twists into an intricate knot. She knows she paid rent on time and can’t think of another reason he’d call her. “A sprinkler main on the floor above yours burst about an hour ago, and it’s pretty bad. Your place definitely got hit the hardest because it’s directly under where the pipe burst. You’re going to have to move out for at least two months while we gut the place and start from scratch. How quickly can you come and get the things that are salvageable from your apartment?”
“Fuck.” This is the worst news Magdalene has ever received. “I can be there in fifteen minutes,” she panics, “But Paul, you’ve gotta go inside and check on my cat. He’s going to be freaking out.”
Paul agrees to visit Caligula after some prodding, and Magdalene drives much faster than she ever has before through the neighbourhood. It’s far from reckless, but she knows that it isn’t the safest course of action. A police officer stops her about three minutes from her final destination but lets Magdalene go after she explains the situation as calmly as possible.
Other tenants affected by the flood are already moving boxes down the stairs when Magdalene pulls up. Everyone is understandably grief stricken, but she can’t find it in herself to console them like she would under normal circumstances. All Magdalene cares about is making sure Caligula is okay. She sprints up the four flights of stairs and doesn’t even break a sweat, adrenaline flooding her veins. Her apartment door is ajar, most likely from Paul entering a few minutes ago, and she flings it open with more force than probably needed. It swings back violently on its hinges and makes a spectacular crash when it hits the wall.
“Caligula?”
“He’s in the bathroom,” Paul sighs. “I can’t get him out of the tub but he’s still breathing. Is he not scared of water?”
Magdalene lets out a breath of relief she didn’t know she was holding in. She treads deeper into the apartment, casually assessing the damage, before reaching the room in question. There, pressed against the far corner of the tub, is the fluffy white cat that Magdalene’s heart beats for most days. Paul is there too, leaning against the sink and shaking his head.
“Thank you,” Magdalene says sincerely. “I’ve got it from here.”
The superintendent exits the unit with a solemn goodbye and heads to the lobby, no doubt going to direct traffic flow and answer questions. It takes a few minutes but Magdalene coaxes the cat out of the tub and into her arms. She holds him tightly and whispers words of praise, knowing it will help to calm them both down. After an uncounted amount of minutes Magdalene moves them into the bedroom, that looks surprisingly intact upon first glance, and changes out of her work clothes and into something more suitable for rummaging around her destroyed home. Caligula climbs up her body and settles gingerly into the hood on her sweatshirt. She starts in the bedroom, and finds that the only thing that’s actually salvageable is the clothes in her closet. Grabbing the suitcase from the top shelf, Magdalene shoves everything inside of it and wheels it into the living room.
She spends the next few hours going through every room in a meticulous manner, desperate to keep relics from her life in Denver. The water did a number on her space and destroyed almost everything. All the furniture is a write-off, and most of her books and records are ruined. Two things that withstood the damage are faux marble busts of Augustus and Marcus Aurelius, which Magdalene packs into one of the boxes Paul dropped off. Everything else fits in three other boxes and they’re tucked into the trunk of her car before the sun sets. Paul insists that the demolition company will get rid of everything else and ensures her she won’t have to pay rent while the construction is going on. It isn’t much of a consultation, considering that Magdalene has no idea where she’ll be staying, but she thanks him anyways as she makes the final trip to her car with Caligula.
Once inside, Magdalene breaks down. She has no idea what to do – no one is in Denver to help her out and she can’t afford to stay in a hotel for however many months this is going to take to fix. Tyson and Bette will be back in just over a month, but Magdalene doesn’t want to bother them or guilt them into coming back early. She cries in the driver’s seat of her car for a while, Caligula on her lap and doing his best to lick up the tears streaming down her cheeks. Not knowing what else to do, she dials Ryan’s number. Though they haven’t been talking as frequently due to the time difference and Magdalene’s insistence he enjoys his time with family, she knows he’ll pick up and listen intently. He’ll also hopefully talk her down from the imaginary ledge she’s found herself on.
He picks up on the second ring. “How’s my favourite girl?” Ryan asks, and Magdalene can hear the smile in his voice. The combination of his voice and the words spoken has her choking on another sob. “Hey, hey, breathe.” Concern is now the primary emotion expressed through the phone line. “Mags, what’s the matter?”
It takes her a few seconds and multiple pads of Caligula’s paws into her stomach for Magdalene to calm down, but she eventually tells Ryan what happened. He listens just as she thought he would, and keeps her breathing steady with his voice. She cries a bit more before running out of tears, but Ryan keeps her focussed on anything but the shitty circumstance she’s found herself victim to – detailing how he skated with Nate earlier in the day and just how many times his teammate kicked his ass. Hearing the mundane story helps more than Magdalene thought it would, and when Ryan asks her where she’s going to stay she responds with a relatively strong voice.
“I’m just going to sleep in my car.”
“Fuck no you aren’t.” The certainty in which Ryan utters the words takes Magdalene by surprise. For someone so far away, he has a lot of opinions on what she should be doing.
She sighs. “There isn’t another option Ry. I can’t afford a hotel for the months my apartment is going to be out of commission and there’s no point in renting another place.”
“Stay with me.”
A series of flabbergasted noises come out of Magdalene’s dropped jaw, but she can’t form any words. Ryan continues, “Think about Caligula. Being cramped in a car isn’t going to be good for him. Or for you. I have an extra bedroom you can call your own for as long as you need. Please Mags.”
Truthfully, it’s the best she’s going to get. Bette and Tyson offered to house a couple of rookies this season, meaning their spare rooms are filled, and there’s no one else she’s close enough with to think about asking. “I don’t want to intrude,” she sighs, but it isn’t a very convincing deflection.
“I want you there,” Ryan insists, “And little boots too.”
It takes them a while to work out the logistics, but Ryan makes a couple of calls and lets the doorman of his building know Magdalene is moving in. He also books a flight for the next day, and ensures her that he’s more than ready to come back to Colorado. They talk for a few more minutes, and in that time she gets directions to her temporary home. Once Ryan hangs up with well wishes and a see-you-soon, Magdalene looks in her rear-view mirror and sets out for a part of Denver she never thought she’d live in.
☼☼☼☼
When Magdalene calls Bette to fill her in on what’s been going on while on the way to pick Ryan up from the airport, the blonde is taken aback by the surplus of information. “Hold on,” she breathes, “Ryan’s coming back to Denver?”
“What part of ‘I’m on my way to the airport to pick up Ryan’ was confusing?” Magdalene laughs.
Her friend doesn’t find the jest funny. “Fuck off.” The comment only increases Magdalene’s laughter, but Bette forges on with the conversation. “Can you recap the events that led to Ryan leaving home nearly three weeks early?”
Magdalene indulges her friend, explaining for what feels like the hundredth time that her apartment was destroyed in a flood and that Ryan offered her his spare bedroom and that he was coming home so she wouldn’t be alone in the unfamiliar environment. Bette listens in silence, and Magdalene imagines she has a shit-eating grin plastered on her face. She’s made quite a few comments about how friendly the two of them seem, but Magdalene does her best to shrug them off. Ryan can just be her friend, a great one even, without Bette projecting her need to have her best friend to have an identical lifestyle to her. Even if she’s right, and Magdalene does want there to be something more between her and Ryan.
“Hold the phone.” Magdalene hears Tyson shout, no doubt getting closer to his girlfriend so he can join in on the conversation. “Gravy’s letting you stay at his place?”
“Yeah…” she trails off, unsure about what wasn’t clear this time.
Tyson hums as though he’s an old-school anthropologist who just made an astute observation about the group they’re studying. “Interesting.”
“How so?”
“Well for starters, he barely lets us hang out at his place,” Tyson explains. “I think I’ve been there maybe twice. So that’s new. Is Caligula staying with you?”
Magdalene is completely confused. “Why wouldn’t he be? He’s my cat.”
“How does Gravy feel about it?”
“What the fuck are you getting at Tys?” Magdalene asks, but there’s a bite to the question. She’s tired of the impromptu interrogation he’s providing. “Because Ryan was excited to have him around. Last night I sent him a video of little boots prancing around the condo like he owned the place and he thought it was hilarious.”
Bette, who had been silent for several minutes, gasps loudly. Tyson laughs, but Magdalene can tell it’s riddled with disbelief. “Mags,” he says gently, though with more than enough teasing laced in, “Gravy isn’t a big pet guy.”
The comment hits Magdalene like a tonne of bricks. What is she supposed to do with that information? There’s only ten more minutes until she gets to the airport, and she needs time to push Tyson’s comment to the back of her brain and collect herself. Magdalene gives a rushed farewell before hanging up the phone and checking her rearview mirror and blindspots. The radio filters back through the car speakers, but she doesn’t hear it, too caught up in what Ryan allowing Caligula to share his space means. There’s little traffic on the off-ramp and before she knows it Magdalene is pulling into a parking space and killing the engine.
She grabs the messily scribbled welcome home banner from the back seat before locking the doors and heading inside to the arrivals section. The inside of the airport looks similar to the empty parking lot – it’s a Tuesday after all. Only a few others wait with her for the plane, and many chat idly amongst themselves. Magdalene stays off to the side in an attempt to not get sucked into a conversation about the upcoming thunderstorm. Passengers slowly trickle through the open door, and Ryan is easy to spot. He towers above everyone and is carrying a rather large bag of hockey equipment. Magdalene smiles at the sight of him, unable to help herself. It’s been nearly a month and a half since she’s seen him and being apart for that long is something she never wants to do again.
“Hi,” she breathes as he approaches, waving awkwardly while she speaks. It’s as though she hasn’t spent countless hours talking with him about every possible topic her mind could dream up.
Ryan doesn’t feel the tension, or if he does he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he wraps her in a tight hug that lasts a touch longer than one with just a friend should, especially in public. Magdalene tries hard not to melt into his side but it’s nearly impossible – Ryan has a magnetic pull that tugs on her heartstrings and makes her insides feel fuzzy. Others bustling around the terminal start to give them strange looks, and it’s only then that Ryan clears his throat and untangles his arms from Magdalene’s waist.
He smiles down at the strong-willed brunette with kind eyes and shoulders his bag once more. “Let’s go home.”
☼☼☼☼
It takes a few days to settle into a routine, but once they do it’s glorious. Training camp doesn’t start for another three weeks, so Ryan spends his day doing light workouts and chilling with Caligula while Magdalene is at work. Once she gets home they make dinner and watch West Wing reruns on the cable network Ryan didn’t know he was even paying for. Their lives fit together seamlessly and it surprises Magdalene just how much she missed having a roommate – Bette moved out after their sophomore year of college, and it’s been just her and Caligula ever since. Though the personal space is nice, she likes being able to hear Ryan laugh at the meme she just sent or knocking on his door in the middle of night to ask if he wants ice cream.
Magdalene wakes up one Saturday to complete silence. It’s unsettling considering she hasn’t heard that since adopting her pet – Caligula sleeps next to her head and breathes loud enough that she’ll never have to buy a white noise machine. She notices her door is slightly ajar and hears soft noises coming from the living room. Ryan must be taking a day off, Magdalene notes, because he’s typically out of the house by seven and it’s currently five minutes past eight. She rolls out of bed and stumbles into the ensuite, brushing the tangles out of her hair and washing her face.
Not bothering to change out the pyjama pants and hoodie she stole from Ryan, Magdalene pads into the sunlit living room to see her roommate doing yoga. On a tiny mat beside him is Caligula, stretching his limbs like he’s following along with the tutorial. The sight is adorable, and before she can think twice about it Magdalene is snapping a photo of the two of them and posting it to her Instagram story.
“You trying to whip my cat into shape Graves?” Magdalene teases, weaving around them and plopping onto the couch, bringing her knees to her chin and holding in a yawn.
Ryan laughs, loud and care-free, and Magdalene wishes he could record the sound and play it on loop. “He kept trying to sit underneath me and I didn’t want to hurt him. I read somewhere that if you give a cat something similar to what you’re doing they’ll leave you alone. Guess it really works.”
Her heart constricts in the best way possible. Ryan continues to go above and beyond to make her and Caligula welcome and doesn’t seem to mind they’re the ones invading his space and not the other way around. There’s still twenty minutes left on the YouTube video he’s watching, so Magdalene pushes herself off the expensive leather sectional and into the kitchen. The least she could do is make breakfast. Deciding on pancakes, Magdalene gets to work prepping the batter and warming up the frying pan. She hums absentmindedly to the Joni Mitchell song playing on the small radio she placed in the kitchen window. Music always made cooking more enjoyable for her, and Ryan doesn’t seem to mind the device taking up space.
The island is set and the food ready by the time Ryan slides into his seat, small beads of sweat lingering on his forehead from the workout. Magdalene resists the urge to wipe them away and instead busies herself with placing the right amount of berries on his plate.
“Mags,” Ryan calls softly, pulling her out of her mind and back down to Earth. “That’s more than enough. Sit down and eat before it gets cold.”
They eat in silence until Caligula appears, meowing for whatever scraps he can get his hands on. Against Magdalene’s pleas Ryan feeds him a blueberry. The cat sniffs it inquisitively before swallowing it, though it comes up again a few moments later.
“You’re cleaning that one up bud,” she laughs, bending down to make sure Caligula is okay before rinsing her plate in the sink.
“Fuck.”
Ryan does as he’s told and helps Magdalene with the dishes before getting ready to head out for an unofficial team meeting. Camp starts in a few days and Gabe wants to get together and make sure they’re all on the same page before barreling head-first into the season. He promises to pick them up a late lunch of sandwiches from Barn Owl and Magdalene follows him to the door to say goodbye. It feels natural, like they’ve always shared this routine, and she knows that Ryan feels it too because he wraps her in a tight hug before petting Caligula one last time and slipping out the door.
Bette calls soon after he leaves and grills Magdalene on all the details of her new living arrangement. She’s still in Canada, spending a few more days there than Tyson to help his mom and sister finish unpacking their things at the house they recently purchased.
“So, have you kissed him yet?”
The question is asked in such a casual, Bette-like manner that Magdalene barely chokes on her water. “Bee, what the fuck?”
“Oh come off it Mags,” she sighs, “You like him. He likes you. The two of you live together now. It’s only a matter of time before the friendship turns into something more.”
The blonde is right about at least one thing – Magdalene has developed a steady crush on Ryan. She should have known being in such close proximity to him all the time would put her feelings into overdrive. However, she didn’t have another option other than to accept his offer when it was proposed nearly a month ago, so Magdalene is now being forced to deal with the repercussions.
“I have, in fact, not kissed Ryan,” Magdalene huffs. “But I’ve thought about it once or twice.”
A squeal tears from Bette’s throat and she forces her friend to share the details. Magdalene obliges mostly to get her off her back, but it does feel good to talk about it with someone. It’s a very long time since she’s had romantic feelings for anyone, and Magdalene is nearly giddy with excitement over the possibility of new-found love by the time Ryan gets home. She says farewell to Bette and promises to come over as soon as they're both in the same city again.
It’s later than both of them expected, so they decide to forgo lunch and instead cook an early dinner. Ryan wants chicken and Magdalene wants spaghetti, so naturally they compromise on a carbonara without the pork. The radio is cranked to the highest volume as they work, both singing along and in their own little worlds. Magdalene is in charge of cooking the pasta and Ryan sets about making the sauce, and more than once she catches him looking at her while he’s supposed to be stirring the mixture. She can’t be too mad, however, because each time their eyes meet she’s supposed to be doing her job too. Before too much time has passed the meal is ready. It cools on two plates while Caligula is fed and wine is poured – the former done by Magdalene because the cat still isn’t quite comfortable enough with Ryan. Once sitting, they raise their glasses in a silent toast and dig in. The pasta tastes heavenly, and Magdalene makes sure to say so.
“Oh my god this is delicious,” she nearly moans, “You have to make this like every night.”
Ryan laughs and raises his fingers in mock salute. “You got it boss.”
Conversation flows into how they spent their hours apart – Ryan gushing about how good it was to see his teammates again and Magdalene talking about how she caught up with Bette on the phone. She of course left out the part where she confessed feelings for her best friend to her other, more senior best friend. Dinner passes in the blink of an eye and soon the two of them are standing side by side at the sink, elbows knocking occasionally as they do the dishes.
“Want to watch a movie tonight?” Ryan asks nonchalantly. “You said earlier this week you wanted to see Clueless again.”
Magdalene smiles – of course he would remember this offhand comment she made a few days ago about the classic. “That sounds fantastic. Can you finish putting these away? I’m going to pop a couple blankets in the dryer to warm up and see if I can get a nice picture of the sunset for Bette, she mentioned on the phone that she’s missing it.”
“She literally hasn’t changed time zones!”
Laughter tumbles from Magdalene’s lips as she slips out of the kitchen. Two fluffy blankets are pulled from the back of the couch on her way down the hall and tossed into the machine. Grabbing the same sweater of Ryan’s she was wearing earlier in the day from the foot of her bed, Magdalene heads for the balcony door and slips through the glass.
The city is nearly silent. Cars pass under Ryan’s balcony like blips in the night, but they don’t dare touch the peaceful atmosphere radiating from Magdalene. She’s had one of the best nights of her life, just her and Ryan laughing over glasses of wine and the pasta dish they cooked together. It’s all so domestic and charged with stolen glances and soft smiles that Magdalene knows it’s more than two friends living together for a short period of time. There’s been a fundamental shift in their relationship but she doesn’t know how to address it, or if she even wants to despite her looming attraction. Being with Ryan is so easy that she forgets it’s only temporary. Realistically she knows it can’t last forever, but she finds herself hoping each day Paul will call and tell her the rebuild is taking longer than expected.
Ryan calls her inside, informing her the blankets are out of the dryer and the movie she picked out days ago is queued up on the television. Magdalene takes a deep breath and finishes her glass of wine in one gulp. Hopefully he won’t notice when she casually leans in and rests her head on his shoulder halfway through the film.
☼☼☼☼
taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy @samsteel @lovethepreds @cutiesara23 @hockeyallthetime @stlbluesbrat21 @denis-scorianov @danglesnipecelly @c-tangerine @stormingroses @spine-buster (add yourself to the taglist!)
#ryan graves imagine#ryan graves x oc#ryan graves fic#colorado avalanche imagine#nhl imagine#nhl fic#hockey imagine#hockey fic#cwrites#dmtteol
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headcanons for being the youngest maximoff (part two)
pairings: maximoff twins x sibling!gn!reader && avengers x gn!reader
warnings: spoilers for infinity war + endgame, death, non-descriptive violence, idk
author’s note: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO COME OUT AAAAAAAA it was supposed to be up a while ago but things got in the way and im so sorry :(
tags: @madamevirgo @euphoniumpets
headcanons under the cut !
so
after steve broke everyone out of the raft you were all on the run for a while
vision and natasha joined you all at some point, and scott and clint returned home to their families
after a while wanda and vision decided to stay in scotland, leaving you with sam, nat, and steve
you were not a huge fan of the idea of leaving her behind
you had already lost your parents and pietro and even though she wasn’t dead you still wouldn’t be able to see her
but you knew why she did what she did
fast forward a little bit
you find out that tony went missing
and then that wanda and vision are being attacked
so u all fly to scotland to help them
*insert u being a badass and beating the shit out of an alien*
finally reuniting w your sister
there were tears
when you arrived back at the compound it was like a breath of fresh air after so long
it’s a shame you weren’t there under better circumstances
immediately getting upset when you saw the hologram of ross
that motherfucker
anyways
going to wakanda was an.... interesting experience
you wanted to enjoy it 
but considering why you were there,,,,,,
it was kinda hard to enjoy it lol
wanda ofc stayed up in the lab with vision and shuri
she wanted you to stay up there as well so she could keep an eye on you
she was very hesitant to let you go into the front lines of the battle
even though you were an adult now you were still her little sibling and she was worried for you
you assured her that you would be fine though
fine might be pushing it but
let’s be realistic here
you kicked some alien ass down there
taking out enemy after enemy with no hesitation
pretty impressive tbh. ur fucking awesome
ily
anyways
eventually wanda came down to join the battle
the two of you fought alongside each other
badass sibling duo ugh yes
but then
you had to go against thanos himself
ugly ass mf
you tried to use your magic to remove his gauntlet
you were unsuccessful
he kinda tossed you to the side like a rag doll
which hurt like a bitch
when he snapped you had no idea what tf to do
i mean you had just lost, what were you supposed to do?
you were in the middle of crawling over to wanda, wanting to try to comfort her over the loss of vision
but then she just kinda, disintegrated?
you were in shock for a minute
but then it hit you
“no, no, no, no, no...”
you started sobbing
now you had officially lost your whole family
after a little bit you made your way over to what was left of the team
you all kinda stood in silence for a little while, just processing everything that had happened
eventually you all returned to the quinjet and flew back home
for the first two-ish weeks after the snap you just locked yourself in your room and refused to leave
though eventually you did leave your room again, though very reluctantly
after three weeks had passed by carol, who you were quite fascinated by, returned to the compound carrying a spaceship with her
turns out tony was on said ship
you were glad to see him after so long
and now we jump to going to space to beat thanos’ ass (a g a i n)
you had never been to space before so it was quite a new experience
shame it was under such poor circumstances
when you arrived at thanos’ residence you were out for blood
he took your last remaining family and you were not in the mood to let him get away with it
and then you found out the stones were gone
and everything he had done couldn’t or so you thought be reversed
you were already ready to kill thanos before, but especially now that that was revealed
sadly though, thor took the responsibility of killing the titan himself
*5 years later*
you were 23 now
a whole ass adult
you still lived at the compound with natasha, not exactly having anywhere else to go
not like you would’ve left anyways but
nat had become your sort of support system over the last few years
after all, at this point you really only had each other
all of the rest of the remaining team went their separate ways, none of which deciding to stay with the two of you
one day though steve comes by
you were glad to see him, you had missed him a lot since he left
the three of you had a not-so-positive conversation and then out of nowhere scott appears at the front gate
he tells you his insane idea of using the quantum realm to time travel back to before thanos
you were very wary
you didn’t exactly have a lot of knowledge on the quantum realm but you could still tell that it seemed risky
the four of you went to tony’s house to try to convince him
he almost immediately said no
yikes
you all tried to convince him but to no avail
so you went to bruce hulk instead
bruce?? hulk?? who tf is he tbh
but anywho
when you saw him you were kinda like ????????
but chose to ignore it
you got him to agree to the time travel thing
and it was ?somewhat? successful
somewhat is pushing it tbh
scott became a baby which wasn’t great
but then tony showed up and fixed it like the genius he is
you helped recruit all the remaining avengers to help w the whole time travel thing
you were going to go back in time and get the stones before thanos could
you went with clint and natasha to vormir
you thought it made the most sense for you to sacrifice yourself
after all you weren’t even positive this whole thing with the stones would work, and you couldn’t risk continuing to live a life without wanda and the rest of the team
they stopped you before you could jump though
when natasha dropped you swore your heart stopped beating
she had been all you had for the past 5 years and then she was just gone
you ended up getting the soul stone but at what cost
you and clint returned to the compound and there was a small ‘memorial’ (for lack of a better word) for natasha
after that tony put all of the stones together into a makeshift gauntlet
after a little bit of deliberation it was decided that bruce would be the one to snap his fingers
bruce, hulk, whatever tf
brulk
LMFAO
sorry back to the headcanons LOL
he snapped
immediately everything felt different
you went out to look out a window, seeing a few butterflies fluttering around that you knew weren’t there before
a smile immediately took over ur face
“hey guys, i think it worked!” - you
you were about to turn around and walk back to everyone else
but then
you saw a large ship in the distance
and something began flying toward the compound
and then everything went dark
when you woke up again you were buried under a bunch of rubble
which bruce picked up off of you
you ran out to where thor, tony, and steve were
you saw thanos and froze
they were engaged in a battle and you tried to keep your distance in order to collect yourself for a moment
which proved to be futile because you were dragged into the fight not long after
you kinda got your ass handed to you
it wasn’t pretty
you were lying on the ground when all of a sudden you saw orange light surrounding you
you looked up to see portals opening, all your allies who you had thought to be dead stepping out
you saw wanda and you stopped breathing for a moment
you got up as quick as you could
which proved to be difficult due to ur injuries and overall extreme fatigue
you launched yourself at her, bringing her into the tightest hug you could muster
the two of you held onto each other for a moment before you had to return to fighting
maximoff sibling teamup part 2???? yeah most definitely
fast forward to after thanos and his bitch ass army lost (im sorry i just really dont have the energy to write all that rn)
and to after tony’s funeral
you and wanda had a l o t of catching up to do
like
5 years worth LOL
u had to comfort her over vision’s death a lot
considering that to her, that was still only a couple days ago
and a lot of the time when you two talked the mood was kinda depressing, all things considered
but you still tried to keep it lighthearted
for example
your absolute favorite thing in the world was the fact that you were now older than her due to the snap, 3 years older to be exact
you held it over her all the time, constantly making fun of her for it
all in good fun of course
something wanda really loved was when you would tell her stories from when she was in the soul world (only happy ones ofc)
though it made her sad that you had to go so long without her, and she missed out on so much
she wanted to know what she had missed
all in all
you two were incredibly close, the snap and its aftermath only further confirming that
sibling goals tbh
a/n #2: aaaaaa im sorry to end it on that note (i didnt know how to end it im sorry asf) but yeah </3 and once again, so sorry this took me so long to post, ive been super busy with school && life in general so i just havent gotten around to it :( butttttttttttt if u guys want i could try to continue this series of headcanons for wandavision?? i’d wait until friday ofc for the final episode and id spoiler tag it and everything but i could try my best? might be kinda difficult but i think it could be fun so if anyone wants that then lmk!! :)
#avengers x reader#platonic avengers#avengers imagine#avengers fanfiction#avengers x platonic!reader#mcu#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#my writing#wanda maximoff x reader
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do it bee
alright.
there’s a few things i kept seeing confusion about, so i’ll try to clear it up the best i can with my amateur enthusiast knowledge.
disclaimer: all of this could be completely wrong. this is just what i’ve learned from working as a bookseller in the past and taking a few classes on publishing and just generally doing a lot of personal research into it both as a reader and with interest in joining the industry. i do not know dan’s individual situation, nor am an expert by any means. i am also coming at this as a canadian, so the innerworkings of uk/us publishing are just from what ive learned here.
you will get through this book:
bee’s possibly incorrect far too long guide to the publishing industry and how international editions and signed copies might work for daniel howell’s new book ‘you will get through this night’ available for preorder now
follow @daysuntilthisnight for a countdown #shamelessselfpromo
1) the uk vs us edition
the uk cover is the one without dan’s face on it. the us cover is the one with dan’s face on it. its not uncommon to have multiple covers and putting someones face on the cover is a very american publisher thing to do, personally i really like both. the cover you get is dependent on where you/your country order the book from.
if you ordered from danandphilshop or shop.danielhowell, you will be getting the uk cover, as it is a uk business. if you ordered from the us store right when the book was announced and before the signed copies sold out, it will probably be the uk cover (more on that in the bit about signed books). after that, i’m not sure because i do not know how irlmerch’s distribution works.
one thing to note is all books have an ISBN number which is like a universal barcode for the book at all stores and it comes from the publisher. the beginning of the isbn dictates the publisher/language/product type/etc and the end identifies the particular book. the uk edition and the us edition have different isbn numbers, as will the ebook, audiobook, etc. this is a good way to figure out which edition you are buying from your local bookstore, and you can cross reference with the isbn in uk or us stores. its usually listed at the bottom of the product page online.
if you live in a country besides the us or the uk, it depends whether the book is being distributed or published in your country. distribution is often more cost effective, and is usually the way it works. as far as i know, dan’s book is being distributed (not published) to the countries on this list with the exception of the us where it is being published (not distributed). if a book is being published in a country, it will have a different isbn and sometimes a different cover. if a book is being distributed it will have the same isbn and cover as the country it is distributed from (usually the closest publishing hub, so london or new york in this case).
to know what edition is in your country, you can compare the isbn numbers and/or the covers. you can also take a look at your other books to see whats normal in your country to get sort of an idea. im assuming europe will get the uk edition but im not sure about other countries.
here in canada for example, our books are usually distributed from the US meaning you will be getting the us cover if you order the book from a canadian store. i ordered from irlmerch when dan’s book was announced though, so i think im getting the uk edition.
1.5) covers and book design
most of the time, especially with new authors, the author has very little say in the final decisions re: book cover and book design. they usually get input, and the publisher gets final say. book design is also a very different thing then general graphic design and professionals genuinely go to school for this. thats not to say there arent bad book designs or that regular people can’t do it too, it’s just something to keep in mind.
2) signed books vs signed editions
there are a few different ways that signed books can work. primarily, there are signed editions and signed books. both are physically signed by the author, the difference is when in the process these books are signed.
signed books is the ‘old-fashioned’ way, where the author will sit at a table and sign copies of their book. the author usually signs on the title page and for a long time, this was the only way to do it. they have already been printed by the publisher so they will have the same isbn as unsigned books. signed books are usually more limited, often they can be personalized, and if you have ever gone to a proper book signing where the author signed the book in front of you, you have a signed book. signed books are also sometimes made available at the authors local bookstore because they are able to sign them in person. as far as i know, the books that were ordered from danandphilshop��or shop.danielhowell during the initial signed run will be signed books. i also believe there are/were limited signed books from uk retailers, i think those are/were signed books (not editions) where the isbn matches the normal first edition of the book.
signed editions are a fairly new thing, and have made signed books so much more accessible which is awesome! signed editions have a different isbn then their normal edition and signed book counterparts. they are technically two different books and are listed as a separate book in stores. that is because signed editions have one (1) extra page. this allows the author to be sent boxes of pages, not books, to sign BEFORE the books are bound. the pages are then sent back to the publisher to be included in the final printed copy of the book.
signed editions help authors to sign even more copies which allows for things like signing hundreds of thousands of copies of a book in some cases. if you are familiar with john green’s books (and hank’s too), he is a large part of the reason signed editions increased in popularity. for example, his book turtles all the way down had a signed edition and a normal edition, they were the same price but the signed edition included the one more page that john had signed. this also allows authors to do fully signed first edition runs, such as john’s new book the anthropocene reviewed (which comes out the same day as dan’s book lol), where every single copy of the first edition is signed (so there is no such thing as an unsigned american first edition, this is becoming more popular for some authors to do especially if the first edition print is not very a large quantity).
if you saw dan’s ig story from today (which was almost definitely a delayed post lmao), he was signing the signed edition papers that will be bound in the signed edition copies of the book in the us. as far as i know, it is only the us publisher that has this option. as you can see on the us store books-a-million, there is a signed edition and a normal edition. they are listed seperately and there are different isbns. the signed edition will be bound with the one extra page that dan has signed.
both types of signed books have been actually signed by dan and are so cool to have if that’s something you want and are able to get. if not, you’re not missing much.
3) book piracy and pricing
i’m not here to tell you what to do, so i won’t. i know being able to buy books is a privilege and dan is a millionaire. full stop. he doesn’t need the money and you probably do.
books are expensive. the difference between cost and price of a book can vary drastically. does your calc textbook actually cost the publisher $300? probably not, but it does cost more per copy to print less copies of something (like a textbook) then it does to print millions of copies of a nyt bestseller. does a $24 book cost that much to develop/print/distribute? maybe.
but most of that money goes to the publisher. the fact of the matter is authors get very little from the actual sale of the book (usually only a couple dollars), which okay, not exactly convincing you against piracy but hear me out. the actual number of sales a book has lets a publisher know how successful a book is, which helps to decide how many more prints/editions are made and often dictates future opportunities for authors.
a series of books that i love is very popular on tumblr, but there was a serious problem a few years ago where copies of the book were being pirated so much, sales were down so drastically, that the publisher almost didn't continue to publish the series. in the case of smaller authors or your favourite ongoing series, buying your copy of the book could be the difference between the existence of the next book or not. in dan’s case, i don’t know what his future plans are, idk if he plans to write more in the future, but i do know that publishers look at previous sales to decide if they are going to publish a book in the future.
ebooks are usually cheaper and more accessible if money is an issue. used books, while not helping with sales, are also a great option if you’re willing to wait and look around. you can often request your local library buy a book and read it that way, or they might even already have it. there probably even audiobooks and ebooks at your local library. stores like am*zon are usually cheaper as well. online stores of large chains like b&n and indigo will often have the books cheaper to match amazon. however if you can, support your local bookstore.
of course if the author is a horrible person do whatever tf you want. also fuck the textbook industry.
tldr: dan worked really hard on his book with professionals to make it the best it could possibly be. i think it looks beautiful, and it will help a lot of people. the publishing industry is a mess but really cool. check the isbn of the copy you ordered if you want clarification or you can just wait for the surprise.
#this is nearly 2k words#i was supposed to work today xsfhkdf#but this was fun!#also if anyone has any more info or anything id love to be (nicely) informed#and any other qs i can attempt to answer#ask#anon
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any recs of anime or manga with butch characters? ive seen all the standard ones like sailor moon, oniisama e (rei is always on my mind), and standard yuri animes. i just would love to see more masculine female characters :/
i’m butch myself, so seeing this in my inbox made me smile. but before address the question, i want to cover my bases and clarify a couple of points first:
“butch” as a wlw identity doesn’t really exist in japan the same way it does in like, america for instance. the japanese lgbt scene has its own identities, roles, and lexicon which are embedded within the history of japanese lgbt people. while the terms “neko” and “tachi” are often mistranslated as “fem(me)” and “butch”, they aren’t actually the same thing, and have completely separate histories and social contexts in which they exist.
however, you seem to be using the term butch here to loosely mean “masculine woman”, rather than as a wlw identity/role, so i’m gonna follow your lead. generally speaking, women’s masculinity in japan has a very different history and set of standards than that of western butchness. japanese masc women, as a result, don’t present the same way as western masc women, and so in many cases they may not read the same way to a western reader as they would to a japanese one. stuff like that is important to keep in mind when looking at how masculinity in women is portrayed in japanese media.
as an aside, i generally dislike the use of the descriptor “masculine female” to define “butch”, as it can be interpreted as exclusionary to butch trans women. while obviously trans women are as female as any other woman, there’s significant precedent for terfs using the term “masculine female” as a catch-all which homogenizes masculine cis women, nonbinary people, and trans men while simultaneously excluding trans women entirely. so i tend to be pretty careful on how i use terms like “male” and “female” in this context.
with all of that being said:
my #1 rec is obviously gonna be revolutionary girl utena, the anime (moreso than the manga, which while due plenty of credit as the source material, is bogged down so much by chiho saitou’s own heteronormativity that it fails to reach its own narrative potential; this is a rare case where the anime adaptation is leagues above the source material in quality). that is, if you haven’t already seen it (not sure whether it falls under your definition of “standard”). the crux of the show is about deconstructing the role of womanhood and its impact on those who live within that role’s relationships both with men and with other women. it is, in my opinion, an indispensable work of art.
similarly, you should definitely check out rose of versailles by riyoko ikeda if you haven’t read/watched it already (you may well have, if you’ve already read oniisama e). it’s not a yuri (unfortunately...it should have been smdh) although it is a staple of the dansou theme in manga, and takes much inspiration from the yuri genre; the female lead oscar, who has lived her whole life within the “male” role, has a very romantic friendship with her friend/mentee rosalie.
golondrina by est em is definitely worth checking out too; the main character is a masc lesbian pursuing the traditionally male-dominated sport of bullfighting, but it isn’t focused on romance (although it does come up, especially later in the series). some might fund the subject matter questionable, although the ethical concerns surrounding bullfighting are discussed, the way it’s romanticized by the main characters is bound to make some people uncomfortable.
i also highly recommend you check out ebine yamaji’s yuri manga, pretty much all of which feature somewhat more “tomboyish” bi women or lesbian main characters. love my life is her most well known work, and it’s my all time favorite work of hers as well. they’re less overtly masculine, and i doubt any would self-describe as such. still, it fits the bill close enough and i can’t resist recommending ebine yamaji every chance i get, so sue me.
tsuki to suppin is another yuri manga you might like, with one of the main characters being rather tomboyish, particularly relative to her more feminine girlfriend. although like with ebine yamaji, it’s more androgyny-based and isn’t the sort of “masculinity” readily intelligible with butchness. if you like soft lesbian slice of life this is a great manga to check out.
karubania monogatari by tono also fits the bill, and is not dissimilar in many ways to rose of versailles as far as both the old-fashioned political elements of its setting and the princely (well, duke-ly) role of the main lead, although i recommend it much more hesitantly than the above, because it has some majorly problematic elements that ultimately lead me to drop the series, but you’re still welcome to give it a go.
to note a couple of non-manga graphic novels from other countries that fit this bill as well:
the manhua tamen de gushi has a distinctly masc/fem lesbian couple as its primary focus. it’s very slow-burn and generally inexplicit, at least in part due to having to circumvent chinese censorship laws, but is still a very sweet read and the characters are very likeable.
the american graphic novel roadqueen by mira ong chua also centers on a masc/fem lesbian couple, and takes a huge amount of inspiration from the yuri tradition, as well as women’s biker gangs. it’s action-packed and a ton of fun.
ah, that’s all i can think of for now. hope this helps!
#no i will not apologize for my impromptu essay on dykery at the beginning#ask#manga recs#not mangacap
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Hello, Sam!
I have just started reading your series Moments in Time that I saw Breanie recommended and I must say, it is absolutely wonderful so far!
Croup: This was not at all what I expected! I stumbled across this universe recommended on Breanie’s tumblr and thought I better start in order. PUH-Tunia really is a bitch! You can just see the abuse already inflicted on him and he’s only three! The mental anguish of a three year old being told he can’t have nice things because he breaks them can’t have been good for poor Harry! No wonder’s so unsure of everything later on. Yelling at him because he’s sick like it’s his fault! Im surprised she even gave him medicine! Wanting him to sleep outside in the “frigid air” and only deciding not to because the neighbours might see really says a lot about her personality. Ive never read anything from Petunia’s point of view before but well done. I hate her even more than before. I look forward to following this new adventure that is your moments in time universe. Great read!
The Boggart of Grimmauld Place: This was just so heartwarming! Harry getting to spend even a little time with Remus and Sirius at Grimmauld Place was what was missing from canon. Memories of his grandparents, learning about them. It was just lovely! When Harry is ashamed of wanting Sirius to embrace him a little longer my heart ached for that poor boy who never got to feel real hugs and affection. He thinks he should be ashamed for wanting to feel it and he shouldnt! I blame for petunia for that. I meant to say that in Croup how she touched his forehead to check for a fever and he flinched like he’d been expecting her to hit him. Poor poor little Harry. I love how you play on the connection here between Harry and Sirius and even parallel it to the Potters and Weasleys. Harry being surprised that he would be in Sirius’ will at all. Harry just being surprised that people care about him. Makes me want to just give him a hug! What abeautiful story! Thank you.
Hide and Seek: This was so fun! I love the thought of them all playing hide and seek in Grimmauld Place and everyone joining in! Remus and Tonks making out in the cupboard was the best! It was definitely my favourite part and Sirius just teasing them! Hermione thinking something happened between Harry and Ginny. I loved how Harry opened up a little to Ginny. You could see he was actually really comfortable with her in a way he’s not with people. Absently massaging her wrist, touching her. He was caught up in her without realizing he was caught up in her. Adorable! The second addition was wonderful! I love how Ginny just took control, loosening his tie, taking off his jumper… they are the superior couple! While I am a tad disappointed to not see them making out at the end, I loved this story. Thank you.
Seventeen: Wow! This was a story I didn’t know I needed. Harry and Ron lovingly admitting they’re brothers warms my soul. I love that touch of giving them matching watches! Was that canon? If not it should be. Mrs weasley feeling guilty over Sirius is so like her. She loves and cares for Harry as if he’s her own son and it’s wonderful to see. The last bit with Ginny was perfect! They definitely had to do more than the uninterrupted kiss and I love how Harry just basked in her. The end made me so sad! His heart breaking over missing her birthday, lost opportunities. Very beautifully done! These one-shots are amazing and I look forward to reading more of them. Thank you.
The Demise of Walburga Black: This was absolutely amazing! The image you crafted of them laughing like lunatics as they destroyed her portrait was awesome! What I like most so far about your writing is how you gently weave in Harry’s relationship with the Weasleys. I love the idea of George moving in with him and Ron, that Harry would offer his home to him like that. I love that Harry goes to Mr Weasley for renovation advice. I think its so hot that Harry would renovate the Muggle way (so sexy to see men in a tool belt and I’m going to assume he’s shirtless and sweaty). I love that it was Angelina’s idea and how you casually had Ron toss in that George and Angelina were already sleeping together. George not really being drunk, is that because he drank a lot to cope with Fred’s death? I think it is. Harry’s reaction to being caught by Mrs Weasley, how his guilt eases into pleasure that Mrs Weasley would call both himself and Ron George’s “younger brothers” and his glee in being lectured by her in a motherly fashion. And dont even get me started on the scene with Ginny! The way he gushed on his drunken ramblings about making a home with her and wanting to raise a family and her not wanting to get her hopes up because he’s so drunk! I laughed out loud when Harry said that drunk Harry wants to do dirtier things with her or something like that. Just wonderful all around! Where’s Teddy in this story? I know he lives with Andromeda in canon but I thought I read that you have Harry raising him. Ah well, maybe the next tale will answer that question! Thank you.
That’s all I’ve had time to read so far, but I just wanted to say thank you for writing such a rich and vast universe! I can definitely see why Breanie recommends you so much! I have a few questions if you don’t mind.
1) What made you decide to write a story about Harry’s early childhood from the point of view of Petunia instead of Harry?
2) Do you think Petunia and Vernon physically abused Harry when he was little? It’s fairly obvious he had psychological abuse, but do you think there was more?
3) Do you think Ron and Hermione knew Harry had never played childish games like hide and seek as a child? Do you think the others knew and that’s why they all agreed to join in?
4) When do you think Harry actually started to notice Ginny? Was it in his fifth year and he just didn’t realize or do you think it was later? There is the scene where she puts him in his place over the possession bit and of course when they get kicked out of the library together. What are your thoughts?
5) Was it canon that Ron and Harry have the watches of Mrs Weasley’s brothers?
6) Do you believe George could handle his alcohol better because of his age or were you insinuating he had become accustomed to the drink after losing Fred?
7) Where is Teddy when Harry lives at Grimmauld Place? From the summaries of your stories I got the impression Harry raised him. But I haven’t read any further so I may be wrong.
Sorry for so many questions, but I am curious. I look forward to reading more. Thank you for your time. You’re amazing and I love your work! Thank you.
I have been following your review journey and getting more and more excited the further you get into the universe!! I am going to try my damndest to answer all these asks you’ve sent today but I have an incredibly busy weekend, so it may take me a little bit to answer them all especially if you’re asking specific questions since I won’t have access to my computer a lot. So, I will answer all your asks, but give me the weekend because I want to give you the best and most detailed answers I can!
1.) Honestly, Croup and Brontide (I promise, no spoilers) are the reason I started this as a series. I mentioned Harry had croup a lot as a child in Brontide and then wanted to write a companion piece. I thought, what better way to demonstrate Harry’s childhood then telling a story through Petunia’s POv because she’s absolutely horrible. Plus, I didn’t think I could get into the mindset of any other POV for that story.
2.) I definitely think there was physical abuse as well. It’s indicated in the books (Harry knowing to dodge away from a frying pan or something). So, I do feel they did physically abuse him as well. He has a few scars to show from it.
3.) No, I don’t think they knew. Maybe some suspected it but not know. I think everyone was just sick of cleaning Grimmauld Place and wanted to do something fun. It didn’t matter it was a child’s game. They just wanted something to do.
4.) I think he started to like Ginny as a friend in fifth year. I think he started to notice her as someone more than just Ron’s little sister. I don’t even think he noticed how he felt comfortable around her in fifth year either. I like to think all the dots started to connect earlier than 6th year but Harry just didn’t know what it all meant. Then 6th year come and he’s like crap… I really her! But it was building, unknowingly, to Harry before then. Ginny had been slowly forming into her own person in Harry’s mind and he felt comfortable and liked what he saw. He just didn’t connect it romantically at that time.
5.) No, the watches isn’t canon. I wish it was though. Honestly, when I wrote it, I totally forgot they mentioned Ron getting a brand new watch in canon until months after I wrote the story.
6.) George was a bit of an alcoholic after the war. It’s mentioned more in-depth in Brontide. But he definitely held his alcohol better because he has been spiraling into alcohol abuse for months by that point.
7.) So, again it’s mentioned in Brontide, but Teddy lived with Andromeda for the first year of his life before Harry gained custody of him. Andromeda didn’t feel comfortable with Harry raising Teddy at first. Once she got to know him and see how much Harry cared for Teddy, she handed over custody to Harry so that Teddy could live a more normal life and have parents and siblings.
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Blue Dream VII
Pairing: Iris West x Barry Alen
Rating: E
Chapter Word Count: 9, 034
Summary: A series of sporadic dates between Iris and Barry turn into something more, a story in its own making.
Chapter I: Primetime
Chapter II: It's Cool
Chapter III: Anything
Chapter IV: Comfortable
Chapter V: The Way
Chapter VI: Say Yes
Chapter VII: Brave; They fuck with the rain like a soundtrack behind them, like a song that swells and stretches, telling their story, but you're so brave; stone cold crazy for loving me; yeah, I'm amazed; i hope you make it out alive, a song that rises and rises, that sounds too good to be real, that might destroy you, but only in the best way. (Read below or on AO3 linked on the chapter title.)
Chapter VIII: Blue Dream
Brave
Broken hearts are made for two
One for me and one for you
Tell me have you heard the news
We are now in love
Fall break from school is scheduled during the last three days of the last week of October. Before she can take some time off, Iris has midterm articles to write and grade. Barry is busy testing DNA samples or whatever it is CSIs do so they don’t see each other for several days after he leaves her house the morning after Wally’s party.
On the Wednesday of Fall Break, the first day off, Iris lets herself sleep in until almost 10, and then she packs up her bag, stuffing a notebook, a couple of pens, and her laptop in, before dressing comfortably in a pair of dark leggings, and a white oversized CCU hoodie she stole from her brother. Throwing on a pair of white low-top Chuck Taylors, Iris heads out to Jitters. It’s a rainy day, and other than workers who’ve no choice, not many people are out. A storm is brewing for later in the night, the sky dark and cloudy, but for the moment, it’s just a steady rain that has Iris walking carefully to her car and driving a lot slower, thanking her lucky stars that she finds a parking spot right in front of the coffee shop.
Back in high school, especially once her dad had gotten her a used car during the beginning of senior year, Iris and Linda would come to Jitters to do homework or stare at the college boys who would come in. The coffee shop has expanded since then, buying the small antique store that had been next door and adding more seating and a bar that specializes in alcoholic coffee brews. It’s still one of Iris’s favorite places to work because now the manager is a young Black woman with wild curly hair always dyed in one bright color or another and a soft spot for mid to late 90s R & B female singers. The shop is comfortable, with couches and overstuffed chairs in mismatched browns and beiges and blues set up near the walls and windows and several tables, two- and four-tops, taking up the space in the middle. Two of the walls are exposed brick and the others are painted stark white and feature framed prints in wild colors. It’s changed since she was a child, but Iris likes to think that she’s changed with it, that as this integral part of Central City has grown and added light and color and comfort, so too has Iris.
Today, her plan is to outline at least two entire stories from interviews she’s completed over the last couple of weeks before she even thinks about leaving the coffee shop. She settles into one of her favorite spots, a soft navy armchair behind a small circular table. She sets up her laptop, her notebook with her notes, her pens, and once a waiter drops off her brown sugar latte and a chocolate muffin, she lets the sound of the rain, and the Erykah Badu playing on the speakers, get her into her work.
“Hey, beautiful.”
Iris looks up just as Barry stops beside her. She’s been at Jitters for just over three hours now, and her shoulders are cramped and she’s coffee high and hungry. The rain is still pounding down, so hard that it looks like it’s raining sideways, and Iris curses her inability to get any work done in her own home. Besides all that, she’s reeling. She’s just outlined a story of a man explaining the story of the woman he’d loved his entire life: from growing up together in a small city in North Carolina, to becoming best friends and de facto siblings when his parents died and her dad agreed to foster him; from not dating but seeming like it in high school, to falling for other people in college; from having other spouses and children to one night of passion before they found their way back to each other when she decided to leave her husband after his wife died. It was a ride from start to finish, such a roller coaster of feelings—of love and pain and joy and heartbreak—that make Iris feel a bit heavy with them, a little loopy with them.
Barry stands to the side of her, towering above her, in as simple an outfit as what she’s wearing, a pair of black joggers and a white sweatshirt. She’s startled that he's there because she figures that he should be at work, but her heart does tick up at the sight of him. That is, until she lets her eyes rake over his lean frame. He looks a little...down, like a physical manifestation of the story she’s just outlined. His hair is messier than usual and his eyes aren’t carrying their usual sparkle, in addition to the darkening bags that frame them. He’s also a little stubbly, his jaw covered in a fine layer of coarse hair, his pallor a bit ashen.
(Iris will also admit that she thinks he looks sort of, well, good, like this; but that’s neither here nor there and she feels terrible—and maybe a bit perverted—that she’s lusting after him when he’s obviously going through something.)
“Hey,” she responds softly, and she stands up to assess him further. He seems so much taller than her like this, when they’re both in sneakers. She hasn’t seen him since the morning after Wally’s party a week ago when he dropped her back off at her car after spending the night at her place. They’ve talked a bunch and FaceTimed once, but she’s missed him. She reaches up into his hair, rubbing at his scalp a little until his eyes close and he lets out a soft little moan. She keeps at it and then touches gingerly at his face, at some of the moles dotting his cheeks, at the stubble he’s grown. He reaches up to stop her, eyes still closed, and it startles her a little bit. She goes to pull her hand back, but then he holds on to her wrist to bring her hand down and presses a kiss to her knuckles.
She’s never seen him like this. He’s always so open and, maybe not happy, but never so melancholy. There is always a pep to his step, as her grandma used to say, a smile on his face that always said that he feels some sort of contentment in his life. And obviously, people are allowed to have days like this. But it does something to Iris, to see him this way. She wants to lash out at whoever has made him look like this, like he’s drowning in emotions that he can’t easily pull himself out of.
“Bear, you okay?”
He nods, a little woefully, and he catches her eyes again. She bites at her lip as she stares back at him and, on impulse, she leans up to kiss him. It’s just a little more than a peck, something to tell him that she’s there with him; but he takes it a step further, kissing her harder, biting at her lip enough that there’s more pain than she’s expecting. She moans at him and he pulls back, breathing labored.
“I’m sorry,” he speaks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s fine,” she says. “You didn’t hurt me. Well, a little, but I didn’t hate it.”
That gets a more real smile out of him, and he thumbs at her bottom lip. “Hmm, I guess my good girl is a little bad.”
Iris rolls her eyes and gives him a look, sobering for a minute. “Bear, what’s up? You okay?”
He doesn’t answer her question. Instead, he nods at her table and asks, “you get a lot of work done?”
She eyes him, wanting to ask again. But she knows how she is when she doesn’t want to talk about something and so she lets it go. For the moment.
“Yeah. Or, at least, I’ve done most of what I set out to do.”
He nods, casts his eyes out of the glass, looking at the rain for a moment, watching it fall in heavy sheets. Normally, Iris likes the rain. It’s soothing and she enjoys how it makes the world take a moment to slow down. When she was a little girl, her grandma (her dad’s mother who grew up somewhere at the bottom of Georgia) used to say that when it was raining, and particularly when it was storming, that the Lord was doing His work and that it was the time to be still. They’d have to sit quietly, usually with the TV and the lights off, and just be. And while life doesn’t allow her to drop everything because it’s started raining, there is always a hushed feeling that comes over her when it rains, something tranquil, but also a little turbulent, a little uncontrollable, quite like the very rain she’s reveling in.
“Wanna come over?” he wonders, voice unsure.
She nods readily. “Okay, yeah. Sure.”
He goes to return her mug and plate while she packs her bag back up. He meets her at the door, opening up a large umbrella and throwing an arm over her shoulder to lead her out into the rain. She walks with him past her own car as he takes her a short black away to where his Jeep is parked. He helps her into the Jeep first, watches as she tucks her bag under the seat, and then closes the door before walking around to the other side.
They ride to his house in silence. He lives far on the south side of town, a good twenty or so minutes from downtown if they hit the highway. Instead, he takes the streets, adding another ten minutes to their drive. Iris doesn’t mind; as she said, she likes the rain, and in this big Jeep, tires sluicing easily through the flooding roads in a way her car definitely can’t, she’s enjoying the ride. He had silently connected her phone to his car’s Bluetooth, so she took it to mean that the music choices were hers. She contemplates finding something that he might like, but she figures he likely wouldn’t even be paying much attention. So she decides on one of her slower playlists, ones with songs that dip and fade, that take listeners on a journey of highs and lows, and she lets it play. The lyrics tell too much, so i guess that i should mention; that i am in no condition; to put you in this position; i might fuck this up, although with the heavy weight on Barry’s shoulders right now, she can’t tell if she’s talking to him or vice versa.
He takes them past one of the major shopping districts in the city, past the Apple store and the Michael Kors shop and the one restaurant her dad took her to when she graduated college where pasta dishes run nearer to forty dollars. These shops, and the nicer mall and a couple business buildings that rise as tall as those downtown, lead into longer stretches of road where trees interspersed with beige or cream apartments begin to take up where businesses once stood. He turns into the familiar subdivision that she remembers; it’s a little older than some, which makes sense if his parents were able to buy and pay it off before they were gone. That also means that none of the houses are the same cookie-cutter versions that tend to make up most subdivisions these days, where houses are identical save for the color and the trim and what children’s toys litter the front yard.
He presses a button on his visor and the garage opens as he maneuvers the car so that he can back up into the driveway. He stays in the driveway, though, the music cutting out—but whatever the case, you're my favorite mistake; more than happy to make you—when he turns the ignition off. She waits for him to come around with his umbrella and he half picks her up to pull her out, holding on to her as he walks her through the garage.
She’s as quiet as he is, taking in her surroundings, trying to get a better sense of who he is by what he’s got going on in his house. There isn’t much in the garage; there are a bunch of boxes neatly stacked on one wall, a couple bicycles in another corner. There is a wall full of tools and a couple tables that have science looking tools on them, like a microscope and several bunsen burners and petri dishes, though nothing looks as if they’re currently being used.
He leads her through a door that opens up into the kitchen as he presses another button to close the garage. His house is as cute on the outside as it is on the inside, although she wonders how he might feel if she were to call it cute. The kitchen is large, done in white, gray, and green, with steel appliances, gray marble countertops, and the look of a place that doesn’t get a lot of use. They both stop to toe their shoes off right outside of the kitchen where a couple other pairs of Barry’s shoes lie. His living room is pretty big: a wide space that features a real stone fireplace as the focal point and a large screen television situated above it; a huge sectional in a slate gray with a few throw pillows; and a big square wooden coffee table. It’s masculine and clean without being gaudy or too bro and Iris wonders if he did this himself because even if she never knew her, she doubts a woman who loved flowers as much as his mother would decorate her living room this way.
The dark curtains on the windows are open wide and Iris can see the backyard but the rain coming down in sheets keep her from being able to make out much besides the patio with what looks like a grill and wicker furniture. Iris remembers being told that his dad had been a doctor and his mom some sort of university researcher and the house matches that.
Barry lets her hand go to tug his sweatshirt off, revealing a plain white t-shirt that rises up over his taut belly. She doesn’t avert her eyes, giving herself permission to track how the sweatpants hang off his slim hips and how he isn’t so much sculpted as he’s hard and tight, with just the beginnings of abs. He catches her staring and he smirks at her before dropping down in the corner of the couch, one leg spread out along the seats of the chair.
“Come here,” he tells her, and she moves toward him, sitting so that her back is pressed against that hard chest and his arms are wrapped around her. She grabs a hold of his forearm with both her hands and settles her head in the crook of his elbow. She’s surrounded by his scent, lemongrass and clean cotton, and for a while, the only sounds are his breathing and the pounding of the rain. He touches her, the hand she’s not holding on to stroking up and down her thigh. Her leggings are pretty thin and she feels his touch fully; if she concentrates enough, she can feel those beloved calluses on his hands. He rubs his hand towards the juncture of her thighs and then over her hip and then back again, and like always, his touch ignites something in her, even as she’s wondering how she might be able to help him out of whatever funk he’s found himself in.
“You ready to tell me what’s up?” she wonders a while later.
“Hmm,” he hums, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Not yet. Tell me about your day.”
She shifts so that she can look back at him, noting the way his eyes have darkened a touch, become grayer like the sky outside, and it’s different from the bright blue-green she remembers from the day of the festival or the wicked blue-gray they always are right before he pushes hard into her.
He blinks down at her and licks his lips slowly. It’s not an explicitly sexual act, even if her body thinks it looks that way, and Iris finds herself lost in it, in whatever he’s emanating. It’s erotic in that it’s intimate, a whirlwind of whatever hurt made him seek her out at Jitters, of whatever still lies unexplored between them, of the attraction that doesn’t ever seem to dissipate.
When she pulls herself out, she tells him, “I was working on a story today. One that made me feel a little bit like how you might be right now.”
“Yeah?”
Wanting to look at him more comfortably, she uses his pause so that she can turn around fully and seat herself on his lap, straddling him. His hands automatically go to her hips, one sliding inside the waist of her leggings so that he can touch her skin.
“Tell me about this story,” he requests. She knows that he’s asking so that he can think about something other than what’s on his mind, so she does, giving a little more than she would originally, working out how she might want to tell the story in her blog.
“It was a couple,” she starts, “that grew up together, in the country. They bonded by playing together in the lake, climbing trees, and playing pranks on each other. And then they start to grow up. Their swimming becomes fraught with tension, the bathing suits showing the same skin, but more, ya know, both of them recognizing the differences, cataloging them, thinking about them, remembering them. They don’t act on it, because they’re friends, and he doesn’t actually understand what it means, that he’s 13 and he keeps dreaming about her at night, waking up with a wet bed and a pounding heart. And then his parents die and her dad, who’s a do-gooder in the community and had been his parents’ best friend, takes him in. Now they’re siblings, but of course not. Regardless, it makes it all harder and odder because she sleeps right down the hall from him, their shared bathroom always smells like her, and he understands now, that he likes her smile and the way she speaks and the curves she seems to develop out of nowhere.”
Barry squeezes at her and she pauses as he asks, “And what about her? How does she feel about him?”
“Well he doesn’t know it, but she’s there too. At first she thinks that she’s just conflating it, confusing their friendship. Because she doesn’t laugh with anyone else like she does with him and she never has as much fun with anyone else as she does him and she never feels as comfortable with anyone else as she does him. He’s her best friend. But she sees him, one night, in his room where the door hasn’t fully closed and he’s, well, he’s masturbating, touching himself, eyes closed and moaning, and for the first time outside of the books she’s read, she feels something. And she knows it’s not just because she’s seen him naked because she’s kissed boys before, she’s felt them hard under her before, but something about this feels different for her.
“But she doesn’t act on it. And he doesn’t either, because remember, he only thinks this is one-sided. They graduate. They go to the same college. But their majors are different and their friends are different. She joins a sorority; he gets into a couple of clubs. Their paths separate, even if they still laugh and talk and be when they’re home for the holidays. Then she gets a boyfriend.”
“She never had a boyfriend before this?” Barry questions.
Iris shrugs. “Sure. But it was high school and the beginning of college. They were mostly hookups that didn’t last. This guy is serious. He’s a couple years older, got his own place, and eventually she moves in with him. Heartbroken, he gets a girlfriend too, one of her friends. That doesn’t last long because she figures out that he’s a little bit in love with the main girl, and then he moves on, to someone sweet, someone who’s been not so subtly hinting that she wants to go out with him.”
Barry seems to be engrossed now. She can’t say that the dark look he was sporting is completely gone, but she can see that he’s not as deep in it, interested in the story she’s weaving.
“They go on to marry these people, even if their hearts are not fully in it. His wife has a kid first, her baby comes next. And meanwhile, they’re still friends. Her dad is still his guardian, so to speak; they are together for whatever holidays they don’t spend with their spouses’ families. They still laugh and talk and be. They still look a little too long and want a little too much.
It comes to a head one Christmas. The gods or fate or just some movement on their parts mean that they both go home to her dad’s house with their spouses and children coming in the next day. But her dad is called in to work so they order take out and watch movies in front of a fire. And they laugh and they talk...and they hug and they kiss and they…
“Be?” Barry tries, a tiny little smile on his face.
She matches it. “Yeah. And it’s beautiful, transcendent. But they’re married. To other people. With kids. So they vow to forget it, to never bring it up again. A couple of years pass. They don’t laugh as much, don’t talk as much. She’s having troubles in her marriage. He is too. He actually consults a divorce attorney because he thinks that it’s unfair to both him and his wife, to live like this. And then the wife dies in a car accident.”
“Oh damn,” he mutters.
“Right,” she agrees. “He’s wracked with grief and more than a little guilt, because he loved her but was never in love with her and she had no idea he was going to leave her.”
“What about her? The one he loves?”
“She’s there for him. She consoles him, cares for him, takes his kid when it gets too hard. Her husband doesn’t like it though. Thinks she’s doing too much, thinks that there’s another reason she’s over at his so much. Later, he learns that this wasn’t a new accusation, that even before she and her husband got married, the husband would question their closeness, would wonder what, if anything, had ever happened between them.
“Eventually she gets tired of it. Her kid is older, in their teens now, and she leaves her husband, packing her things and her kid’s too and moving back in with her dad for a while.”
“And what happens between them?” Barry wants to know.
“He and his son come over more. They hang out more, the four of them, going to dinner and to the movies and to the arcade together. And when their kids are gone, at sleepovers or game nights with their friends, they laugh again, talk again. Fall in love again.”
The ending is implied. Iris closes her eyes when she’s done, letting Barry continue to rub at her back, his fingers so so warm on her skin.
“It's a happy ending,” he says, eventually. “But getting there was a little...depressing.”
Iris chuckles softly, lightheaded again at having gone through that again. It likely didn’t make Barry feel any better, but she’ll take the win that it took his mind away from his own problems, if only for a little while.
“Yeah, it is,” she agrees. “But it reminds me that just because it’s not easy and just because it takes some time, it doesn’t mean that things aren’t worth it.”
He nods, slowly, thinking.
“What about things that are...easy? That come like breathing? That start as a simple dance and just, just keep going?”
She stares down at him and she knows that this is rhetorical. She can see the question in the depths of his eyes, feel it in his hands still kneading her flesh. It would be easy to retreat, to tell him that nothing is ever easy, even if the reality is that it is because they are, because they fall into each other so effortlessly, that she’s terrified. There are always hiccups, obstacles, and the fact that she can’t find any keeps her on edge, waiting, anticipating trouble she knows must be coming. She doesn’t want to believe it, wants to stand firm in them—stand firm in the lyrics she keeps hearing, if you decide to stay, know that there is no escape; there's no one here to save you—and she holds onto that as he asks,
“Don’t you think it’s worth it, Iris? Even if it’s this easy?”
She can’t speak, but his eyes are imploring her to answer. Pleading with her for a response. And however terrified Iris is, or however much Iris tells stories, she is not a liar. So she nods and whispers to him, “yes.”
Without waiting for her to say anything more, he kisses her. He squeezes at her waist and leans up to capture her mouth. She meets him with his same fervor and it’s different, this kiss. She knows the passion of his mouth when he’s high, the boldness when he’s teasing her. But this is new, this is fervor, warmth and agony and doubt and pleasure, all wrapped up together.
(Something also tells Iris that there is another word for this, that this is the part of the story where feelings would be laid on the table, where hearts would be splayed open and she’d say it, or he would, and the other would respond in kind, with declarations of adoration, of infatuation, yearning, of any other word that means what she can’t say yet.
But she feels it, what she’s wanting to say, what she thinks he is saying, in this kiss. It is slow and nasty, all tongue and mouth. Her eyes flutter closed at the feeling, at how he licks into her mouth and then sucks on her bottom lip, at how he licks against her tongue and then holds her face to bring her closer to him. She feels it, she feels it, she feels him…)
He stands, holding on to her, and she wraps her legs around his waist, tightening her arms around his neck as he carries her through the house. The kisses don’t stop, though they become shorter, more mouth now, and he takes her down a long hallway past several doors until he turns into one at the end of the hall. She makes a quick note of the light gray and burnt orange decor, the side tables holding books and knickknacks, the one window that spans nearly the entire wall, but she focuses most heavily on the king-sized bed on which he throws on her, the soft comforter half hanging off the bed.
Her clothes come off first, Barry pulling her sweatshirt over her head and yanking her pants over her hips. He comes out of his own clothes as she discards her underwear, and then he’s between her thighs again. But she wants something else first so she taps his shoulder to flip them and then she’s hovering above him.
She gives him a kiss, slow and sweet, and then she makes her way down his chest, kissing as she goes. She loves the feel of his skin against her lips, likes how his skin tastes as she presses tongue kisses on him. His belly clenches and unclenches under her ministrations, and by the time she’s looking back up at him from her position near his crotch, she can see the way his chest rises and falls with his heavy breathing.
She reaches for him, wrapping her fingers around his dick. It’s long like the rest of him, and thicker than she would have expected just looking at him. It’s a pretty dick, the base the same color as him, the head slightly pinker. It’s a little veiny, but the skin is smooth, and already he’s starting to leak. She lifts her eyes to find him watching her, his own gaze hooded. In her peripheral, she sees his hands grip the bed sheets and she revels in how she hasn’t even done anything and his control is starting to slip.
“Tell me what you want, Bear.”
She says the words softly, but Barry doesn’t miss the cheek that lies under it, if the slight smirk he gives her is any indication.
“Your mouth,” he says. “I’ve been dreaming about that pretty mouth wrapped around my dick.”
She shudders at the tone of his voice, at the vision of her on her knees for him. She likes it.
“I bet you have too,” he guesses.
Without a response, she licks him, holding him at the base and running her tongue up one side of him. She does it again, and then one more time, acquainting herself with the taste of him and the satiny feel of him on her tongue, and then she adjusts and covers the whole of him.
“Fuck,” he breathes out.
She hums around him and she sucks him down, taking him until he hits her throat. Then she pulls back until just the tip remains. She licks around his head and sucks him there, letting the spit pool in her mouth, letting it mix with his own wet. She opens her mouth and lets it slide out, dripping down onto him, and her own body starts to drip at his wrecked whisper, “god, baby, look at you.”
She adds her hands, palming his testicles in one and rubbing her spit down the length of him with the other. She finds a rhythm, sucking him down, inch by inch, hollowing her cheeks as she goes, and then stroking his back up. Barry keeps his hand clenched in the sheets, but he cants himself into her mouth, rocking his hips lightly. She’s getting into it, loving the way he responds to her.
“Come here,” he says, suddenly, reaching for her, and she pulls back with a soft pop.
“Barry?” she furrows her eyebrows in question.
He gives her a gentle smile and grabs at her arm; Iris moves at his request, crawling up his body.
“But you didn’t finish,” she says, pouting a little.
“I know. I want to come when I’m inside you.”
She’s mollified by that, and he settles her on his lap.
“You were so good though, baby,” he says, kissing her. “My good, good girl.”
He reaches down to touch her, slipping his fingers easily into her sex. He groans into her mouth at the feel and he pulls back to ask,
“Is this all for me? Did you get wet sucking me off, good girl?”
She nods, rocking her hips against his hand, against his sex still hard beneath her. “Can, can you…?”
He tilts his head at her, fingers still caressing inside of her. “Can I?”
She huffs out a small laugh because he’s always fucking with her. “You said you wanted to come inside of me,” she reminds him.
“I did, didn’t?” He takes his time removing his fingers, eyes on her as he does. Even with the window curtains wide open, the dark sky has the room dark
(and she doesn’t dismiss the fact that the window faces the side of someone else’s house, where they could be seen if the neighbors were so inclined to watch)
and his eyes look a little like molten lead in the faint rainy light like this. He goes to reach over to his bedside table but Iris stops him.
“I want to feel you,” she says.
He licks his lips and she doesn’t mistake the twitch of his dick she feels under her. “You sure?”
“Yes. I’m on birth control. And I trust you.”
He nods once and again, and then he takes her by her hips and slides her down his cock.
After, Iris decides that this time is the single most erotic experience of her life.
They fuck with the rain like a soundtrack behind them, like a song that swells and stretches, telling their story, but you're so brave; stone cold crazy for loving me; yeah, I'm amazed; i hope you make it out alive, a song that rises and rises, that sounds too good to be real, that might destroy you, but only in the best way.
She rides him, and he’s so full in her like this, so deep in her like this. His back is against his fabric headboard and she’s so close to him, her knees jutting into the headboard, her thighs holding around his hips, her breasts rubbing against his chest, nipples pebbling with each brush on those hard planes.
She holds on to him with her hands holding the back of his neck, softly scratching at the nape. But he’s touching her, always touching her, his hands caressing her spine, and then holding her waist, and then squeezing her hips. He guides her: keeps his favorite pace, smooth and languid; bring her up to the tip and fucks her back down; shows her how he wants her to roll her body when he’s full in her, so her clit is brushing the soft hairs on his pelvis, the sensation incredible.
He uses his mouth too: to kiss her throat, deep tongue kisses that’ll leave marks she knows she’ll have to cover up; to whisper against her mouth, “see how easy this is; see how good, baby; fuck, see how good this is; yes, yes, yes, my good girl.”
And Iris feels so caught up in it. She can’t stop looking at him, loving when the lightning slashes across the room and illuminates those eyes, the constellation of moles on his skin, his wet, pink mouth. Her body hums with pleasure, soaking her thighs and his, tightening around his dick as if it never, never wants to let him go. She voices her satisfaction, in soft sighs and heavy pleas, and his name on her tongue like a chant, or better, a song, “Bear, Bear, Barrryyy.” They’re so close, her skin sticking to his wherever they’re touching, chest to chest and ass to thigh. She feels full and whole and filled...with him and with desire and with, and with love, the thought of it making her shudder and close her eyes.
“No,” Barry whispers. “Don’t. Just let it, just let it...stay here with me. Can you do that for me? Be brave for me?”
She nods, head heavy as her body starts to reach its climax, as her body loosens at the same time that it tightens and she has to fight to hold on to him. “Yes,” she moans again, holding his gaze again.
He touches at her face, holding her cheek and staring back. “Good girl.”
She doesn’t know whose climax triggers the other. She just knows that at the same time that her body explodes, fluttering wildly around him, he comes too, so hard that she feels him throbbing against her walls, that she feels him filling her up with his cum.
He doesn’t let go of her right away. He just holds her, hands at her hip and her face, and then he kisses her, cementing what they’ve just done, cementing what Iris feels for him.
“It’s the anniversary of my mom’s death,” he says, out of the blue. “And when I went to visit my dad earlier, I found out that he’s sick, something with his heart, and I’m-I’m reeling.”
It’s been a long while since they separated and Iris climbed off of him to pad into his bathroom and warm a hand towel under warm water to clean them both. They’ve been lying in his bed, only half under the covers as they let their bodies cool. It’s quiet now, so quiet that Iris has thought he’d fallen asleep; she’d almost fallen asleep. But when he speaks, she blinks wide and then turns her head to face him.
“14 years today,” he adds. He’s looking up at the ceiling as he talks, but Iris feels the hand that’s settled at her waist tighten, the move bringing her closer to him. She understands that he just needs the contact, so she turns so that she’s all the way curled on him, one of her legs thrown across him, her arm tossed over him too, hand settled on his heart. It’s beating slow, steady, and so she strokes his bare chest, right it.
“How’d you find out?”
“I was still at school,” he tells her. “It was a Friday and some of my friends had convinced me to go to a football game, so we were there pretty late. Games could run until 11. I was 17 so I had my own car. It was an old car; we’d bought it from a guy she worked with. By this time, my dad had been gone for a couple years, and my mom was always working late at the lab, so when I got home around 10:30 that night and the lights were out, I wasn’t surprised.”
He shifts a little and continues. “I took a shower, put some leftover pizza in the microwave, and just as I was sitting down to eat, the doorbell rang. It was the police looking for her next of kin to tell them what had happened.” He sighs heavily. “I got lucky. The courts let one of my friend’s parents take me in until I graduated a few months later. I was able to get a work study job in college to pay my bills since the mortgage was already paid off.”
He says it all like he was lucky, but there is nothing lucky about losing both of your parents in that matter, even if one of them was still physically alive. Iris knows from experience that he doesn’t want pity, doesn’t want anyone to feel sorry for his story. But she can’t help the way she wants to comfort him, and so she lets herself do that, tightening herself around him, snuggling even more into his chest.
“How are you feeling about your dad?” she asks, mumbling against his skin.
“Devastated. He looked like, like, I don’t know, like he’s giving up. I don’t get to go see him too often, every couple of months, really. And he looked so different from when I saw him last: smaller, frailer. I think there might be something he’s not telling me. Like he’s been sick longer than he says he has.”
“Is he supposed to get out soon?”
“Another couple years. But I don’t know if he wants to hold on that long.”
She feels them first, the tears. She tries to hold him even tighter, tries to crawl into his skin almost, trying to stem his pain. He doesn’t cry for long, just a few sobs, and then he’s inhaling deeply and wiping at his eyes. But it must be enough because he sounds a little hollow when he says,
“And truthfully, I’m not so much sad as I am mad, that he seems to be giving up. On getting out. On me.”
She hums, not dismissively, but because she understands. “Wanna know a secret?”
“Yeah.”
“Sometimes, I hate my mom.”
He sort of jerks up at that. Not fully, he looks down at her, eyes widened in shock. However inappropriate it might be, she finds herself laughing a little at his expression. Then she explains.
“I know that addiction is not a moral failing. I know that she struggled right up til the end. I know both of those things as completely as I know anything else. But sometimes I wonder why my dad wasn’t enough, why me and Wally weren't enough. I wonder what she was trying to find in those pills that she couldn’t find in us, and I get so pissed that she let it take her away from us.”
She’s startled when he moves. He pulls himself from under her, letting her fall onto her back, and then he’s hovering above her, holding himself up on his elbows. He falls into the spread of her thighs, his sex nuzzling comfortably against her still warm center.
“I’ve seen some of the worst effects of addiction,” he says, “when their bodies end up on a slab of metal and it’s my job to dissect the things around them, to even sometimes help detectives dissect their lives to figure out what happened. And something I’ve learned is that it’s always, always about them. Never about the people they love.”
He searches her face, brushing a piece of hair back from her forehead. “And whatever your mom was or wasn’t thinking, you are enough. You are more than enough, Iris.” He leans down and gives her a kiss, deep and dirty, and she moans in frustration as he pulls back from her. He gives her a grin, one more reminiscent of the Barry she’s used to.
“Repeat after me,” he commands. “I, Iris West…”
“Really, Barry?”
“Yes, come on. I, Iris West…
She sighs, but says it. “I, Iris West…”
“Am more than enough.”
She licks her lips then, blinks, works to not let the tears that have suddenly gathered in the corner of her eyes escape.
“Am more than enough,” she whispers, finally.
Barry’s smile turns fond. “Good girl.”
She shakes her head because she doesn’t know what else to do besides kiss him. Which she does, deeply, reaching down to grip him in her palm. She pauses, just for a moment, to tell him “you know that you are enough too, right?” and she kisses the look of awe off of his face. It’s a long while before she stops kissing him, and then it’s only to moan into his mouth, to let him whisper his dirty somethings into her ear.
“What are your plans for tonight?”
They’ve just shared a shower. Barry is throwing on another pair of sweats and a hoodie and Iris puts her own leggings back on, sans underwear, and thumbs through Barry’s closet for another sweatshirt to put on.
(There’s no reason that she can’t put hers back on, but she’s feeling particularly sentimental and she wants to take something of Barry’s with her, something that smells like him, that feels like him.)
“None, really.” She pulls out a red sweater that reads Central City University Track & Field and throws it on over her bra. “Why? You kicking me out.”
Barry rolls his eyes. “Of course not.” He glances down at the watch on his wrist. “Wanna get dinner? And then go with me to my tattoo appointment? It’s at 8 tonight.”
She smiles at that. “Sure.”
They take the highway back downtown. The rain is still beating steadily and there is still the occasional rumble of thunder, the sporadic flash of lightning. He parks a bit further in the arts district, in front of a restaurant specializing in wood-fire pizzas and craft beers. This time, she knows to wait for him to come around and open the door for her so that she can walk under his umbrella. Once he locks his jeep, he grabs her hand, and they walk the couple doors down and into the restaurant.
The place is brightly lit, in direct contrast to the dark sky and even the faint light that had been on at Barry’s place. The weather assures that it isn’t densely packed, just a couple booths of families and what looks like a couple, so they’re seated quickly and easily. They eat fast since they’ve only got an hour before his appointment. In the meantime, they both keep the conversation light. It’s been a day, for the both of them really, and Iris doesn’t think that she can cry twice in a day.
After he pays, she goes to the bathroom and he tells her he’ll wait at the door for her. She goes in and it’s as brightly lit as the rest of the place and she quickly does her business and washes her hands before heading back out to where he knows Barry is waiting in the little space between the outer door and the door to the restaurant.
She walks through the place and out of the restaurant door, likely too quickly and without really looking. She takes several steps, straightening out Barry’s sweatshirt again, and then she’s bumping into what feels like a solid wall, almost falling backward. A quick hand reaches out to catch her, the hand large, easily wrapping around her forearm.
“Shit,” she says, shaking her head to clear it as she looks up. “I’m sorr..Scott?”
He doesn’t move back right away and so she has to look up, up at the man holding on to her. Scott Evans is the literal definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He’d been her editor when she’d work at CCPN right out of college, and she’d had the biggest crush on him. Tall with dark caramel skin and a neatly trimmed beard, he’d been the one to help guide her in the ways of mass story-telling. They’d gone on one date and Iris is not actually sure why they’d never gone on another.
“Iris West.” He says her name slowly, his grin widening at the same pace. He gives her a once-over, slow and heated. “How’ve you been?”
“R-really good,” she says, stumbling a little at that grin. Even if she doesn’t actually regret never seeing him again, Iris can admit that a man this good looking makes her a little tongue-tied.
“Yeah? I’ve been catching your blog when I can. It’s some good shit, West. I can see why you left our little paper.”
“Please,” Iris rolls her eyes with a little laugh. “There’s nothing little about Picture News.”
He shrugs, humble all the way. “Still, I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Scott. I appreciate that.”
“It’s the truth.” He looks down at her, swiping at his lips with his tongue, and she suddenly realizes that they’re still too close. She steps back fully from him, glancing over Scott’s shoulders to see Barry watching them, his expression unreadable.
“Um,” she speaks, catching his attention. “I gotta go Scott.”
“Oh yeah; of course. We should get together soon. Maybe do dinner.” Scott looks back out of the window where rain steadily pours. “It’s still raining out. Can I walk you to your car?”
Her eyes don’t leave Barry’s and he tilts his head, waiting for her answer. “Scott, I’m not alone.”
He turns as if he’s just realizing that Barry is standing there. Barry is still quiet and only lifts his eyes to look at Scott when he mutters, “oh, hey man.”
Barry nods. “What’s up?” Then he looks at Iris. “You ready?”
“Yeah, I am.” Her voice is soft, cautious, and she throws one more glance at Scott. “It was good to see you.”
He graces her with that smile again. “Yeah. I’ll see you around.”
Barry takes her hand and they walk back to the truck. They’re on the road again, driving to a neighborhood near her own. For a second, she thinks he’s going to take her home, but he passes the road to her apartment and goes on to a neighborhood featuring several bars and little shops that cater to the college crowd. He pulls into the parking lot of a place called Black Gold, the lights inside near as bright as those in the pizza place.
Again, she waits until he comes around and turns as if to get out. He stops her though, holding the umbrella high, standing in front of her open legs. He does his thing, his stare like he's trying, and succeeding, to get inside her mind.
“That your ex-boyfriend?” he wonders.
She shakes her head. “Ex-boss.”
His expression doesn’t change. “All your bosses look at you like that?”
She swallows at the sudden feel of his hand on her thigh. The rain is pounding and drops fall on them, but she’s not noticing it. Instead, she’s caught in the storm that’s returned to his eyes, in the feel of his hands inching steadily toward her center.
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” she says, instead of responding to him.
One corner of his mouth lifts, and the confident, bordering on cocky, Barry is looking at her now, even if that sparkle hasn’t returned quite yet.
“Nah,” he says. “Not jealous. You’re here right now. And you were with me earlier, moaning for me, coming for me.”
He slides his hand between her thighs and because she is, almost literally, always thirsty for him, wet for him, her legs spread easily. He fingers at the crotch of her leggings, and she knows that he can feel her warmth through the thin material. He thumbs at her until she gasps against him, finding her clit in a way that reminds him that he knows her body better than she knows it herself.
“He ever touch you like this?” Barry asks, voice a whisper above the rain. “Make you whimper even without getting your clothes off?”
She is whimpering, as he keeps his thumb on her clit, rubbing on her in slow circles. That’s all he’s doing: touching her with one hand, looking at her with those eyes that tell as much as they conceal, with his voice a deep rumble that rivals the thunder. He might be turned on, but he’s proving a point, naming himself as someone who, well, who owns her, even if she recognizes that no man should claim any power over her.
Heat spreads through her, a low, simmering sort of heat, but it’s enough that her folds grow slicker, start opening like the flowers of a petal waiting to be plucked. He keeps rubbing at her, staying on her clit, staring in her face, so much that she can’t hold his gaze. Because it feels better than it should, and her wet is soaking through these too thin leggings, and her breaths are coming in longer, coming in heavier.
“Tell me he hasn’t, Iris,” he says, commands, and Iris throws her head back, legs widening at their own volition, hips canting against his hand. “Tell me.”
“No,” she moans, eyes fluttering closed. “He never even touched me at all.”
“Tell me it’s just me,” he adds and she’s too far gone to note the pleading in his voice. “Tell me no one has ever touched you like this.”
“No,” she shakes her head. “Just you, Barry, shit, just you.”
“Good,” he groans. “Good, good girl.”
Even if touch is the word he’s using, Iris understands that it’s more. She understands that they’re both wrapped up in uncertainty, never too sure of where they lie in others’ affections, never too sure of where they lie in life at all. She understands that he’s asking her if she feels it too, if she’s there with him, if this too easy, this too natural, feeling is a first for her too.
He’s asking if she’s brave enough to tell him the truth, if she undertands is meaning-understands that I'm no walk in the park; all these scars on my heart; it’s so dark here-even as she’s wondering the same, as she’s feeling the same, wondering if the churning feelings of abandonment make her unworthy somehow. Wondering if he’ll come to see that unworthiness.
Barry leans forward, just a touch away from her mouth, eyes blazing.
“There’s only you too, Iris,” he says, unprompted. “I swear I’ve just been waiting for you.”
He closes the distance to kiss her and that’s enough to take her over. It’s not a powerful orgasm, not like usual, but it does make her shut her eyes tight, make her limbs seize up as she rocks her hips through it. She breathes out, and she can’t stop the little laugh that comes out.
“You really are a dick,” she muses, opening her eyes slowly.
“A polite one, though,” he says, as he stands straighter and holds his hand out to help her down from the car. He holds the umbrella high over her. “See how I’m making sure you don’t get wet.”
“You didn't think of that earlier.”
His grin is devastating but it doesn’t hide the plethora of emotions in his eyes: the simmering lust, the faint traces of insecurity, the grief that’s been hovering all day...the love she doesn’t think he wants to hide anymore.
She hikes up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, and then she walks beside him into the parlor, words flashing in her head like a sign, but if you’re a warrior, there’s nothing to fear; nothing to fear.
And later that night, as she cuddles up next to Barry is his large comfortable bed, she listens to his soft breathing, the sound a melody to the rain still pattering against his windows. She listens and she stares at him, taking in his features, softer than they were before, the stress of today easing away with every second he’s lost to sleep. A flash of lightning lights the room, and it catches her eyes again, the new tattoo, the purple ink bright on his skin, covering the space from a lily on his shoulder to just over his heart. It goes dark again, his room blanketed once more, but in her mind’s eyes, she can still see the vibrant ink on his skin, the pretty drooping petals of an iris.
Cause you're so brave
Stone cold crazy for loving me
Yeah, I'm amazed
I hope you make it out alive
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Bud I’m sorry to swing into your inbox uninvited like this but my soul is having an OOTS renaissance thanks to your content in the tag and did you say Leverage AU
haha holy SHIT this got Long. but yes. i’ve been. Thinking. (also literally Never feel like you have to apologize for sending me messages. i was Hoping someone would ask me about this. now i have an Excuse to share EVERYTHING ive written abt it :3)
Obviously, Roy is the leader/brains of the outfit. He grew up having some Strong Opinions abt what’s Legal versus what’s Right due to tragic backstory involving the death of his little brother which was definitely SOMEONE’S fault for negligence but since there technically wasn’t any illegal behavior, there were no consequences for it. Also he’s still angry at his dad bc he thinks his dad is also partly culpable (and also also just a dick). He’s the Moral Backbone of the team (alongside Durkon, more on that later) in basically the same way Nate was in og Leverage. He’s actually not the best at figuring out what people want (that’s Haley and, shockingly, occasionally Elan), but once he has that info, he is the absolute best at figuring out the ideal plan of attack to use in any given case.
Haley is still a thief. I mean she maps to Parker almost PERFECTLY. Her dad was a thief & a conman, her mom wasn’t but knew about it and mostly accepted it, but she died tragically in a mugging gone wrong or smth, which made Ian crank the paranoia WAY up and taught Haley to do the same in the name of “safety”. Let’s keep the “Ian is in Trouble and Haley needs money, Fast” which is why she signs on to the first job in the first place. She’s less acrobatic than Parker, tending towards finding (or making) weak spots in security, but she can still make a tumble check when she needs to.
Elan is the grifter who is somehow an Idiot but also not???? It baffles everyone. When he’s playing a part for a con, he’s FLAWLESS, but then the rest of the time he’s just. No Thoughts Head Empty. He probably gets lured in initially because he’s decided to try his hand at being part of a full team, rather than the two-man cons he’s been running that invariably end w his partner conning him as well and stealing half of his take. Also he likes the idea of being Crime Friends. He’s that tweet where it’s like, Roy: “after the heist is over, we split up and never communicate again” / Elan: [about to unveil his Crime Buddies Forever Friendship Quilt Puppets]: “never?”
Vaarsuvius is the hacker/gadget person. They have a Vaguely Snobby Yet Unidentifiable accent, dyed(?) purple hair (nobody has ever seen their roots) and nobody knows who they “really” are or where they came from, but they’re good at what they do so everyone just accepts the mystery. They probably got suckered into the team by their initial employer (who I’ll get to Eventually, lol) framing it as a challenge to their intellect, like, “oh, I see, you’re not smart enough to make this team work for you...” to which they were like Fucking Watch Me and also melted his computer. Anyways. They are joined (digitally) by their Intrepid Friend And Co-Conspirator (his words, not theirs), a fellow hacker known only as Blackwing, or, on certain forums, Blackwing_Bird. (In the first season, V only occasionally references him when saying they’re “calling in extra help” or smth for a particularly complex hack job. He starts showing up a little more in s2 and eventually by the start of s4 is a regular & established presence, but only appears as actions in a computer interface or output.) Elan is convinced he’s an AI, Belkar doesn’t think he actually exists, Haley pretends she doesn’t think he exists, and Durkon and Roy try not to think about it too hard, as long as B and V still get the job done.
Belkar is the hitter. He is on the team bc their initial employer got him out of jail for it. He doesn’t have a tragic backstory, he just likes doing violent crimes. As the series progresses, he grows some empathy & stuff, but really only for people who actually deserve it. Assholes still get decked. It’s all very touching. (Also he has dwarfism caused by achondroplasia. It doesn’t actually bother him and is useful in fights bc his opponents frequently have no fucking clue how to approach him, but he likes Pretending to take offense at stupid things just to see how far he can go with it.)
Aaaand last but not least, Durkon is the least involved member of the team. He’s actually a career criminal and Roy’s mentor, and wasn’t a member of the initial team that [redacted, I’ll tell you later, PROMISE] put together for a couple of reasons, the main one being that he’s Officially retired in order to spend more time with his family, which consists of his mom, his friend (not girlfriend) Hilgya, baby Kudzu, and a truly stunning number of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Roy frequently calls or visits him for advice and he Occasionally shows up to help out on local jobs, but generally he avoids doing crime if he can (as part of a deal with Hilgya, who is also a career criminal; basically, they’ve both cut back on the crime in order to provide a more stable home environment for Kudzu. But sometimes, you gotta do a little crime, and in those cases, Sigdi enjoys spending time w her grandson.)
NOW. THE BIG REVEAL YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR. Who got the team together in the first place?!
The answer: Lord Shojo (or whatever Normal Person Name you want to assign him). Now this is where it gets tricky: he had them do a thing that they thought was good, THEN they thought it was BAD, but then when they confronted him he revealed that it Appearing to be bad was actually a test of character and would they consider working as basically internal investigators for him? But then he had a heart attack, so, rip. But THEN it turned out that he’d left them a bunch of money anyway and they were all feeling kind of Inspired so they formed the Order of the Stick, LLC (which, no, i am not coming up with a new name, actually, because I just don’t care. someone else can come up w a justification for that name, tho, i’m sure it’s possible). Also Miko was there and was unhappy abt their actions, and also their general existence.
Moving on. Villains!
Redcloak is the Sterling replacement, because that DEEPLY amuses me.
Xykon is a season-long main villain, probably one that Redcloak finds himself working for but then “teams up with” (read: blackmails) the Order to bring him down bc even Redcloak finds Xykon distasteful. That’s season 3, let’s say.
Tarquin is another season villain, say season 2. Nale probably shows up pretty early in s1, actually, as another recurring antagonist like Sterling but uh. Less good at it. Anyways the s2 final 3 eps deal with them (accidentally) discovering that Tarquin runs some Evil Empire Company, then trying to outplay him and take him down. Idk if Nale still dies in this version tbh.
Tsukiko is a one-off s1 villain who returns briefly in s4 alongside Miko, who has gone well and truly off the rails.
Season 1 finale has to do w Roy finally getting Vengeance for his little brother.
The vampire squad is the s4 finale villain who do smth terrible to Durkon and then get the Mother Of All Revenge served up to them by the Order.
I envision the show as being 5 seasons (like og Leverage) but I’m not going to sketch out s5 because I think it should be based off whatever happens in the current story arc, possibly involving some legacy of the OotSquiggle.
Other stuff!
The Order of the Squiggle is a legendary criminal team from the 60s who stole a BUNCH of famous shit & then proceeded to legendarily implode. This has no bearing on the plot I’ve sketched out, I just think it’s fun.
The Sapphire Guard members should probably be reworked as FBI. I don’t care about most of them but I do think that Lien and O-Chul could be like, FBI agents who Choose to look the other way while the Order does their very-much-not-legal-but-still-fair Justice Crime, and maybe even help them out on occasion.
So, the Final season-by-season outline, based on everything I’ve written so far:
s1 e1: getting the team together, doing a con for Shojo, then at the end he dies and the gang is like “dang what now?" and intend to split up except then they Don’t.
mid-s1: Nale shows up and tries to trick the Order, but then gets beat like a drum.
late s1: Tsukiko is an underling of the Villain Of The Week, winds up in police custody. But She’ll Be Back.
s1 finale: Roy’s Vengeance: The Vengeaning. also we meet Redcloak as an antagonist.
s2 e1: the truth abt Haley’s father comes out
early s2: The Two Live Crews Job but it’s the Order vs the Linear Guild and the Linear Guild ARE all bad guys.
mid-s2: Redcloak returns. ugh.
late s2: the sapphire guard FBI makes its first appearance, hello O-Chul and Lien.
s2 pre-finale: once again they’re in conflict w Nale over smth, he spends the whole episodes making Cryptic Remarks, they basically beat him (like a drum!) but then the stinger at the end is that Tarquin reveals himself and Elan is like “Dad?!”, roll credits.
s2 finale, part 1: Elan is hanging out w Tarquin bc he’s DEEP in Denial, the Rest of the team tries to take Tarquin down, but it doesn’t work.
s2 finale, part 2: Elan finally gets a clue and they manage to beat Tarquin. still haven’t decided if Nale dies or not, but I’m leaning towards yes. also they rescue Haley’s dad.
s3 e1: fuck dude idk.
early s3: Redcloak shows up, AGAIN, everyone groans. he has blackmail on them, he wants them to take Xykon down.
mid s3: The Rashomon Job but it’s about stealing the Talisman of Dorukan and it turns out that Nale was there too (“oh!” Elan says. “I was wondering why I looked so weird in all those mirrors! But it wasn’t my reflection, it was Nale’s!” “Sweetie, that wasn’t Nale’s reflection,” says Haley. “Huh,” says Elan, “so the mirrors were broken?”, cue eye rolling from everyone else.), and the Successful thief was Hilgya, who’d nabbed it from the owner before it even went on display.
s3 finale: they beat Xykon, actually factually, because he deserves to get his ass Thoroughly kicked, even if only in AU form. Lien and O-Chul are there, so are some other less helpful FBI people. There’s a bit where O-Chul Exact Wordses his way out of telling his superiors about the Order’s less legal activities without technically lying. King shit.
s4 e1: doesn’t really matter. maybe smth to do w some legacy of Tarquin’s company to set up the drama w Malack & Durkon later.
early s4: Durkon gets SENT TO PRISON. Malack approaches the Order abt this because sure they have Different Ethics but they’re still Friends. (Roy is surprised and a little hurt that he’s never heard of Malack, but he ignores that in favor of Let’s Get Whatever Fuckers Did This To Our Friend.)
immediately after that: Miko and Tsukiko return as a Team, preventing the Order from working on the Durkon situation
mid s4: Redcloak makes another unexpected & unwelcome appearance but he’s maybe a little less of a dick? the Order collaborates with Malack & his Crime Buddies (hello, Vector Legion) to pull one over on him tho, because “less of a dick” does not mean “a pleasant or decent person”, and also he was mean abt Durkon being in jail, so he totally deserved it. he still gets whatever he wanted tho, just takes a blow to his pride. also prevents the Order from helping Durkon. they’re having a LOT of setbacks wonder why that could be, not to make sure the season fills its whole length or anything, no sirree
s4 finale: something something taking down the organization, headed by Hel (yes that’s her real name), which framed Durkon for their Big Crime. Durkon goes free and Extra Firmly retires, For Good, He Swears, but says he “met someone new” who might be an asset.
s5 e1: minrah joins the team! and the episode is set in like, somewhere really snowy. that’s all i got.
the rest of s5: don’t know, don’t care, it’s open-ended until the comic finishes up.
#mine#ask#corvidcorgi#order of the stick#oots#leverage#leverage au#oots au#au#outline#haha this thing clocks in at 1.9k words because i am LITERALLY incapable of shutting up#hope u enjoy it bc i spent Way Too Much Mental Effort mapping out how the OotS plotlines might play out in a leverage setting#and then promptly ignored Most of that in favor of making it funnier & dumber & more villain-of-the-week#(bc lbr the comic is Good but it's got an overarching plot form that the Leverage story style does Not jive with)#i'm not tagging all these characters lol
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Okay, you know how I said I wanted to watch all these german minecraft series and then watch 3rd Life SMP? Yea, I actually dont have the attention span to watch a bunch of white bread boys fuck around in minecraft with little to no story, regardless of wether theyre american or european so Im just gonna write this post and them start watching 3rd Life SMP so yeah.
First, I kinda want to discuss what Im hoping for on like, a meta-level I guess. The only other minecraft RP Ive watched that seems similar to this is Dream SMP so expect lots of comparisons.
I like to split dsmp into three major parts: no story/non-rp, story/non-rp and story/rp.
The first part was literally just a live streamed vanilla minecraft let's play and it was boring as shit. It felt exactly like watching a bunch of dudes play minecraft and unless they acknowledged the people in their donations (who could uncomfortably pushy and even shippy at times) you did not at all get the impression they were even aware of the stream. And as much as I appreciate some level of authenticity in this type of content, I also expect to be entertained by it and this did not even meet my bare minimum standard of entertainment. Admittedly, my attention span is very low so that definitely has something to do with it, but still. I personally have never felt anything but boredom and occasionally intense discomfort while watching anything from this 'era' of dsmp.
The second part was the start of the first conflict, and thus the start of some semblance of a story. They were kind of 'roleplaying' already (both in the sense that they obviously have their personas for their content and in sense that they didnt actually have grievances with one another and were just playing it up for the sake of entertainment) but it was more on the fly, even less focused and less serious. However, it was already legues more fun to watch.
And then we had the third part, where, starting with Wilbur Soot joining and deciding to larp Hamilton, they started to plan things out more and have more complex and/or dramatic conflicts. Needless to say, this was/is the best part in my opinion and what made me see the appeal of dsmp.
What Im hoping for 3rd Life SMP is, that they skip atleast the first part. From what I can tell, it was created sometime after dsmp has been in that third part for a bit and it is a minecraft rp, so Im assuming the people behind it wanted to do something similar, just with the story aspect there on purpose and from the get-go, if you know what I mean. And by the way, I dont think thats wrong or even "copying" in the slightest. Dsmp very much seems like a case of "they did it first, not best" and if anything, I think it would be a shame if people didn't want to do their own spin on this basic concept.
What Im personally hoping for in terms of the 'style' of roleplay itself, I really hope that they dont seperate it as rigidly into lore and non-lore as they did in dsmp. Ideally, they would do it like Ranboo (Wilbur when he was playing Ghostbur to an extend too, but he didnt actually stream and have his own POV back then), where he's always kinda 'In-Character' even when there isnt really anything happening in the plot at that moment. Again, I just dont have the attention span for no story in series like this anymore, so I'd appreciate it on a personal level, but I also think that it could humanize the characters more and potentially add additional depth to them. Especially since it looks like 3rd Life is made by the Hermitcraft group and if the stuff Ive read about Hermitcraft (especially in comparison to dsmp) it wont thrive off intense conflicts and wars in quite the same way, so that could also be a way of making a calmer rp interesting.
And now, some actual plot predictions!
So, the way I found 3rd Life SMP was this really neat 'Pitiful Children' animatic by ZylisticArt. I didnt actually 'watch' it because when I look up animatics I just kinda stare at the screen, not processing anything because Im too busy imagining my own OC animatic to the song, but I did read the description and was mildly intrigued, and its the main reason I wanted to watch 3rd Life so Im going to properly watch it now and post my predictions for the plot below.
***
The description mentions something about the animatic being based on some kinda theory, but I only skimmed it in order to not get spoiled so idk what thats really about. Im mostly intrigued by the fact that the description mentions it being a hardcore SMP (with a twist!), that, combined with the name and the visuals of the animatkc lead me to a couple conclusions;
I dont really know how Hardcore mode works in multiplayer, but in singleplayer you just get permanently kicked out of your world when you die, so Im assuming it works like that on a server too, except on a server, Im pretty sure you have the option of being 'reinvited' onto a server by the admin(s) so you could theoretically have three lives while keeping it a hardcore project where you cant regenerate without potions or golden apples and all that. Again, idk if thats actually how hardcore works but I sure hope it is, because thats what Im basing pretty much all of my predictions on.
In the animatic there were like green people, yellow people and a red guy who was like, the antagonist I guess. I think the green guys still have all their lives, the yellow ones are down to two and the red lads are all down to their last one. Maybe theres gonna be a thing thats like, if you lose a life you lose a part of your soul and that makes you evil or something? Yknow, like the whole "character comes back wrong" thing, except its the conflict of the entire series. Pitiful Children is very much a 'Manipulating Others Into Doing Harmful Shit' kinda song, and I feel like that would be very in-line with a plotline like that, yknow?
Im not expecting there to be wars/conflicts on the scale of dsmp (no blown up countries here bois) but I am expecting to get ridiculously attached to a place that inevitably gets blown up/set on fire by an antagonist.
Speaking of antagonists, theyre definitely also doing the whole multiple POV thing, which means everyone is an antagonist in one way or another and Im a solutely watching every POV from every characters so that I know the full context and story of everything, so I can have the most correct opinions on them, which is both normal to want and possible to achieve.
Since these are the Hermitcraft guys Im expecting some beautiful builds that make me feel insanely untalented and the same thing with redstone shit.
Ghosts. If they havent added some kind of ghost mechanic/lore at the time Im writing this, they will add one in later, mark my words 3rd Life fandom, mark my words...
Thats pretty much it. This is all going under my mcyt tag too, and I dont think I'll be live blogging it, but it really depends on how interesting it is.
Also, if youre a 3rd Life fan who already watched all of it, the only thing youre allowed to respond to this with is a meme that is horribly incomprehensible to anyone who hasnt watched it.
Have a nice day!
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