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lis-likes-fics · 1 year ago

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Music to My Eyes

Pairings: Finnick Odair x deaf!fem!Reader Word Count: 7.5k words Warnings: Mentions of the Games, so killing and death, mentions of trauma, my attempt at writing sign language, pre-Katniss, no Annie... A/N: Hey, everyone! I watched the Hunger Games a few months ago and had a mini obsession and decided to write for it and only now just got half of my fic done. Since it was running as long as it was, I decided to go ahead and split this into two different parts, but I swear the rest of it is being planned and written. Also A/N: Just FYI, anything written in /slants/ is an indication of something being signed because explaining every little sign just does not work. And, also, Hecton Leary is absolutely done by Peter Capaldi in my mind...just in case you need a visual. I was watching a lot of Doctor Who during this so, get ready to see those intense eyebrows all over the place in this, lmao. Also Also A/N: Special thanks to my beta-reader @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen who I will be crediting more bc I literally forgot to last time and she's too amazing for that! Thanks, Vee! 💖

You don't love wearing dresses—especially not extravagant ones like these, more expensive than likely your entire district as a whole. You also don't love parties like these where you have to wear said dresses, surrounded by tons of people generating body heat and stuffing the room full of perfumes and colognes that make your nose and eyes burn. Your feet hurt from the heels your designer paired with your outfit, and the air is active with words and voices that overwhelm your brain with too much information to take.

Having Hecton beside you is a relief at least—not completely lost in a sea of people as he and you communicate with two rich sponsors from District 1 dressed just a slight less dramatic as you but just as exaggerated.

You watch their lips, painted over with bright colors complementing their attire, as they speak to you. "It must be so hard, isn't it?" the woman asks, spending too much time on "so" as she speaks slowly for you to comprehend. You want to roll your eyes. "Flailing about all the time just to get a few words out?"

The man next to her agrees, nodding his head. You can see his throat shift, and you assume he's hummed a response.

Hecton's hands move with skill as he speaks, partly as aid in translation for you but mostly for the performance people are looking for.

You feel like your lips are going to fall off, you can almost feel them twitching at the ends from how long you've been smiling at all these people who don't know anything about you and assume they know everything.

You widen your smile to show teeth and shake your head, continuing to be as respectful as you can with your social tolerance running low.

Your hands move and, out of the corner of your eye, you can see Hecton speaking as they do. "Not really," he translates. "It's natural for me."

The man puts a hand over his heart and turns to her. "Oh, you poor thing," he says rather dramatically. Hecton doesn't dignify his words by translating that for you—not that you needed it in the first place. His hands remain still, folded in front of him. The man glances toward them, and you can see his brief disappointment at his words not receiving the glory of illustration.

You glance up at Hecton, your smile intact as you slightly squint the corners of your eyes in a silent plea. He answers you gracefully, turning his attention back to the fashionable vultures in front of him.

"This was wonderful," he says, "but I believe our little lady is excited to meet other guests here tonight."

Hecton is an older man with grey hair, pale eyes, and intense brows. Upon looking at him, he isn't the most approachable man. You don't just say no to him—especially as a past victor of the Games who certainly triumphed by a long-shot. He is not weakened by age, but he's definitely wisened by it. Although sobered by surviving the horrors of the Games, it neither slowed nor ruined his life, it simply gave an abrupt end to what little childhood people of Districts like yours can obtain.

One look at the finality on his face and they were fully ready to end their (rather insulting) conversation. They turn to one another, making these awful pity-faces as they hold each other's hands and turn back to heartily agree. "Of course." She puts too much emphasis on the words. "Goodbye, dear."

You nod gently and look toward Hecton for confirmation as he places a hand on your back and turns with you. You both walk away from the conversation gratefully, still smiling for everyone else in the room but moving your hands in silent conversation.

/These people are exhausting,/ you complain, entirely within your right with the way they treat you.

Hecton sighs, looking at you with eyes that understand your struggle. /Just keep them happy./

You nod, remaining light-hearted for both your sakes as you offer a genuine smile before you slip back into a customer service front. /I know, I know./

Lots of eyes are on you tonight, but none so keen as a certain boy across the room. He has basically been watching you all night, intrigued by the way you've been communicating, by the way you draw so much attention without having spoken a single word since you arrived.

He has seen you around a few times—on television, at other parties. He knows your face and that you won the Games like him, but he's never paid enough attention to actually know anything past that. But now, observing you all night, he's interested enough to ask.

His elbow brushes the guy next to him, a victor from another district he doesn't care to specify right now. "Who is that again?" he asks, not taking his eyes off of you as his friend turns to look. "I've seen her a couple times, never remember."

He looks at you and then back at him. "Her?" he gestures vaguely toward you. He nods.

"Victor from District 10, she won the 67th Games." He takes a sip from his drink, leaning back against a table with a hand in his pocket. "Surprised everyone cause she," he shrugged, "can't hear or something."

That definitely caught his attention as he turned full bodied toward him. "Really?"

"Yeah," he swirled his drink around. "She's nice…in a little bunny sort of way." It's not necessarily an insult, more than it is him calling you soft-hearted and skittish.

He walks away without a word, finally making his way toward you to quell his curiosity as he approaches you and takes his sweet time about it.

Your back is turned to him. He briefly wonders the best way to get your attention on the way over, knowing you hate being tapped by the way your shoulders flinch and you strain a smile when you turn.

Then again, no one likes tapping.

When he reaches you, he just folds his hands behind his back and smiles. "Hello," he says simply. Hecton turns at the greeting, prompting you to do the same.

"I'm Finnick. Finnick Odair," he greets with a smile of his own as he regards the both of you. He watches the way the old man's hand moves on his name. Your hand reaches out and interrupts him as you place a gentle palm on top of his. He makes a face—it's not annoyed, just teasing.

You turn back to Finnick, your performance smiling still intact. Hecton speaks while you sign. For a moment, Finnick thinks he'll understand the movements you make—Mags doesn't speak, she has to use her hands to communicate all the time, surely it couldn't be that different—but he is proven wrong when words don't match waves.

"I know who you are. You won the 65th Games, you're from District 4." Finnick thinks, briefly, that your friend's voice doesn't match you at all (which is obvious, of course, but he feels it's worth pointing out).

"Well, then," he responds with a slight chuckle, only glancing for a moment at the way Hecton's hands move as he talks, "I'm flattered you know me. Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for you…"

You seem surprised by that. He thinks it may have something to do with the way that you haven't had many moments away from conversation since you arrived. Everyone has been too taken by you, too interested in snatching a few minutes.

Your hands don't start moving in that curious way Finnick likes to watch because words are already being spoken. "Mr. Odair, this is Y/N Y/L/N. I am her mentor and translator, Hecton Leary."

Finnick holds out a hand, which each of you shake. Out of courtesy, he doesn't start talking again until after your hands are free. "Wonderful to meet you both. And, please, Finnick is fine. There's no need for formalities when we could be friends, right?"

You still smile as you begin to sign, though your brows furrow. /Why exactly do I want to be your friend?/

Finnick doesn't understand, looking at Hecton for translation. He only says your name, a sort of reprimand as he continues to smile.

/I'm only being honest./

Where you expected frustration from not understanding, you find amusement in Finnick's eyes as his genuine smile widens and he looks between the both of you. "What am I missing?"

Hecton looks at you, raising a large brow and waiting for your reply. You sigh gently and shake your head, remaining civil as you begin to sign.

"Sorry," he speaks for you. "I look forward to establishing friendship with another fellow Victor. Maybe one day we'll…" Hecton gets quiet as he just watches your hands continue to move and your lips continue to smile, full of amusement.

/We'll frolic in the woods together, holding hands and singing songs./

Hecton turns full body to you. He holds his palms apart and brings them together swiftly without clapping them. /Y/N./

You smile wider and hold your hands in surrender, the tiny sound of a giggle slipping out of you. You're otherwise silent as your hands fly. /I'm joking! Tell him it was nice to meet him, and I look forward to being friends./

Hecton eyes you momentarily before relenting, turning back to Finnick with exasperation. "She says it was a pleasure meeting you, and she looks forward to your friendship."

Finnick raises his brows, bowing his head gently. "The pleasure is all mine." He's a charmer, and he makes that clear by reaching out and slowly, softly taking your hand in his (his grasp is so gentle that you could easily take your hand back if you wanted and he wouldn't stop you). He bends forward, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. He straightens his spine and watches you fondly. "Until we meet again."

As he lets go of your hand, he bows his head once more before he walks away. You and Hecton watch him leave. He raises his own brow at you. "Is that blush I see?"

Your hands are quick and exaggerated as you move them. You know he's joking and you're not blushing, but his teasing makes you. /No!/

Hecton's smile is wide and open and you know he's laughing at you, so you call him out for being mean. He drops it just as quickly, once the joke has faded to a funny memory and you both are back to mingling with people who do not care about you.

The halls are empty this late in the night. Everyone has retired to their rooms or taken an early train home. It's peaceful, wandering the halls this late and being undisturbed by curious eyes and ears watching you like some wild animal. You enjoy the silence—the physical silence of steady air and only one set of footsteps to track instead of hundreds.

At the end of the hall you wander now is the elevator that takes you to your level. Hecton will be wondering where you are—and if not, it's probably time for you to retire for the night before the victor's interviews with Lucky tomorrow anyway. As you make your way toward it, the lights bright and beckoning, you stop in front of it and click the door button.

It's as the doors are sliding open that you realize you're no longer alone in the dead of this night. You feel it in the prickle of your skin, the change in the weight of the floor beneath you. You look over quickly where the side of your face heats with a new presence.

You see Finnick approaching you, seemingly pleased to see you as he smiles at you, stopping short of the doors to offer you first entry. You grin hesitantly, your confidence from before waning a little with the absence of your mentor and translator. If he tries to talk to you, you're probably going to have a rough night. You press the tenth floor button. He presses the fourth.

Finnick isn't as pessimistic, glancing at you out of the corner of your eyes as you stand with your fingers tangled and your eyes toward the ground. You don't look nearly as cocky this time around—in fact, you seem nervous, refusing to even give him that small, awkward smile you usually receive when stuck in a space next to someone you don't know.

Finnick licks his lips, and speaks before he can correct himself. "Hello," he says, giving you a charming smile before immediately remembering your certain disability.

His curiosity grows when you raise your head, glancing his way but not quite committing.

"Oh, right," he mumbles. His added words spark your attention once more as you finally look at him, moving your hand in a talking motion.

"Yeah," he responds. "How did you know?" You're deaf, but you could tell that he was speaking without even looking at him?

He watches you think for a moment, staring off to try and figure out a way to tell him without Hecton to aid you. You look at him again, raising a hand palm down and shaking it.

"Shaking?" he guesses, raising a confused brow.

You gestured around the elevator, your face etched in concentration, determined to be understood. You sometimes forget how hard communication can actually be for you.

"The room?" he tries. "The room is shaking?"

You make a face, one that says "not quite".

He thinks for a moment, putting your gestures together before it dawns on him. "The air is moving."

You smile, far too happy to have successfully gotten a point across.

Finnick's brows raise, though not in a mocking or upset way. "Is everything really that sensitive for you?"

'It has to be,' you want to say, but you can't. You can read lips, but moving your own to try and copy them is a completely different story. Instead, you just nod and agree.

"I heard that's how you won the Games," he said, before adding on the end with a genuinely impressed smile. "Very cool, by the way." He had spent an embarrassing amount of time—or it would be embarrassing if he actually cared about that—asking party comers about you. Most of the information he got was about the Games, always about the Games. He got the same answers from just about everyone about how you were just so sweet and how it was so inspiring how your lack of hearing helped you to win.

As much as that sweet grin on your face made you want to smile, he wasn't technically right. So you shook your head, and he watched you raise your hands to cover your eyes.

"You were blind?" he wonders, but that doesn't make any sense and he doesn't feel very smart for asking now.

You shake your head and do it again, this time pulling your hands away and then covering your face again.

"You hid," he answers. That makes more sense.

You nod and he hums.

You didn't win the Hunger Games by killing for being killed, you didn't win by joining alliances or traveling in groups and pairs. You won the Games by running and hiding until everyone had killed each other.

When the Gamemakers used their tricks and schemes to flush you out of your hiding places, you found another one to lay low until the end. Yes, there were times when you had to fight for your life, but you were no strong competitor. It was dumb luck that you won. Right up to the end, facing off with the almost-champion after having been hunted down by Mutts. He killed them, and then he tried to kill you.

And that was when your disability was labeled your greatest weapon.

Maybe one day you'll be able to tell him that.

The doors slid open to reveal Finnick's floor. You both linger there in the elevator for a moment, trying to decide what to do from there.

Truly, you should have just waved at him and let the doors close to take you to your own floor. It was late already, you needed to rest.

But…

"Do you like sweets?"

Yes, you do.

You nod, answering his charming smile with a shy one and being upset with yourself in the back of your mind for falling for his obvious charm. If you got hurt, it was on you and no one else. But who cares?

You, you care. Maybe not enough, though.

You follow him off the elevator and into the common room. The kitchen is just off of it, with a long table cleared of dinner but still adorned with snacks—fruits and a few deserts. Finnick slides over a plate of cookies as you take a seat. They're chocolate and very good.

He sits across from you, a little too keen in the way he leans forward. He picks up a cookie between his thumb and forefinger, playing with it absent-mindedly as he speaks.

"Is that," he waves one hand, "usually how you communicate?" He hopes he doesn't sound offensive and takes a bite from his cookie.

You don't seem offended as you shrug. He watches you move your hand like you're grasping a pen, shifting it around in a circle. He understands and, like a dog, goes to grab the supplies for you, dropping his cookie back on the table with little to no regard. He's not necessarily upset about his obedience, if anything, he's happy to let you boss him around��not that you have been—if it means quenching his genuine curiosity with how you operate.

He slides you a notebook as he reclaims his seat, gently slapping a pen on top with a cheeky grin. He seems proud of himself. You hold in your chuckle as you write with the best handwriting you can with the quickness of your scribbles.

/Signing or writing./

Finnick reads it off. He thinks your handwriting is pretty.

"Does it get tiring?" he asks, cookie forgotten in crumbs on the counter. He absent-mindedly pushes it to the side so he can lean closer. "Moving your hands like that all the time?"

His question is one you get often, a repeated question every person asks to suit their shallow interest in you. But you can't bring yourself to be offended or annoyed. Finnick doesn't seem shallow, his curiosity runs deep and his kindness deeper. You're not sure you could take anything he says with offense.

You simply shake your head. /Easy as it is for you to talk,/ you answer honestly, adding the gesture for "speak" at the end to try to be helpful.

He shouldn't be impressed, but he is. "Oh," he says, brows raised in vivid interest. "Is it easy to learn?"

He's full of questions. He knows he probably sounds like a child, piling them on top of each other like tidal waves. But you don't seem upset, so he carries on.

You shrug again.

/Would not know. Depends on person./ You look up at him, and then you add, /You want to learn?/

The way you write is interesting to him. You don't do it in full sentences in an effort to keep it short and simple. But you also don't use contractions, though you try to write as quickly as possible to keep up the feel and consistency of actually speaking.

He smiles slyly and pretends to be shy about it, bowing his head and looking up at you through pretty lashes. "Maybe," he says. "Could you teach me?"

You mirror his expression, bowing your chin toward your chest and smiling at him. /Maybe./

You finish your cookie and rip off the first page to turn to another. He watches you write out the alphabet, quickly scribbling a very poor illustration of a hand gesture underneath each one. It takes a while, longer than you wished for it to.

Finnick doesn't mind. While you're distracted with the activity at hand, he's watching you. You're very pretty, he thinks. With the way you sit to draw, you keep your body open and give yourself the room you need to still see him as you work.

You've got kind eyes. He doesn't think you get that enough. Everyone calls you a sweet girl, but they usually follow it up with something along the lines of "even with her issue".

But Finnick just thinks you're pretty and kind. That's it. No exceptions.

He wants to learn about you without the tainting of word-of-mouth or television programs. He wants to know you. The stuff you love, the stuff you hate, everything that makes you happy, and the stuff that makes you want to throw chairs. He wants to know what your favorite color is, if you like to dance or paint or swim.

Before he can keep daydreaming about whether you like cats or dogs, you look up at him to show off your work. You think it's sloppy. He thinks you did great.

You start going through it with him, showing him the hand signs as you get to them with a patience that amazes him. Once you've gone through the whole of it once, he lifts his own hand to try it out. He looks weird and silly, and you smile as he tries his best.

When he offers a poor attempt at a 'Q', a giggle manages to slip. You probably don't hear it, but Finnick certainly does. His face lights up at the sound. He had heard you make little more than a sigh. Managing to pull a giggle out of you—especially one as pretty as that? It's like winning the lottery.

He goes through it with you a couple more times before he straightens his spine. "So…"

He points to his chest and holds his hand out, slowly moving it to fit the gestures he's tried.

F. I. N. N. I. C. K.

You nod quickly, beaming from ear to ear at how quickly he's picked it up already. You point to yourself and spell your own name out. You move slowly, giving him time to connect each letter to each sign as you go. And when you finish, he spells it himself. A nearly perfect copy, (although perfect may be generous, he's definitely trying and it shows—that's perfect enough in your book).

You carefully tear the page out and set it to the side so he can still see and write excitedly on the next page, your writing almost terrible with how quickly you scribble. /Natural!/

You sign the word after. He copies you, and then tries to spell it out. He gets it right for the most part—even though you're pretty sure you saw him use an 'X' instead of an 'R'.

He really wants to impress you. He doesn't make that subtle, and you're honestly happy he doesn't. It makes you genuinely giddy, the way he's so eager to learn and show off his new skill (a skill he's literally been practicing for no more than ten minutes). You don't realize how far onto the table you've learned. Your hands would brush if you moved them an inch closer.

"I'll keep at it," he replies genuinely at your proud smile. He had no idea someone so silent could be so pleasantly loud. Your ecstatic movements and wide grins compensate for your lack of vocalization. When you speak through your hands or the notebook in front of you, he almost swears he can hear a voice he hasn't heard in place of it, so kind and pretty. Like a song.

You smile too fondly at him, taking in a soft breath before looking down at your hands and sitting back again. You'd gotten ahead of yourself. You don't correct it as much as you should. You're just as fond as you sit correctly in your seat and watch him with intense interest.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you pick up your pen again. He watches you write something down. You turn the book around for him to see.

/Mentor cannot speak?/

"Mags?" he wonders. You nod, tilting your head. "No."

You write again. /Cannot sign?/

"No."

You tilt your head and furrow your brows, a silent inquiry. He shrugs, "Never learned."

You contemplate for a moment, rubbing your neck gently before taking the notepad once more. You show it to him.

/Can teach./ You point to yourself, offering a small grin.

"Really?" he furrows his brow.

You shrug. Why not?

Finnick stares at you a moment, searching your eyes for a joke he knows he won't find. So why would you be so open to helping her? Maybe you're just weird.

His lips curl in a smile. "I'll ask her."

Your own smile grows.

He drums his fingers on the table, watching you watching him. He thinks for a moment, just staring, before he opens his mouth.

"So obviously, you can read lips." You nod. "Were you born deaf?"

You nod and reach for the notepad once again. It takes you a moment to write this time. /Parents did not find out til 2. Was a quiet kid. Did not realize until I never started speaking./

He's so interested in everything you tell him. He hangs onto your every word like pure gold. "So you've never heard anything before? Ever?"

He feels like it's a dumb question. Of course not. But you hesitate, glancing off before you nod.

/Yes./

His eyes go wide with wonder. "How?" He crosses his arms and leans forward on the table.

You thought for another moment, trying to find the best way to phrase it to keep it simple. You tap the pen against your lips and click click click it.

/Before the 67th Games, my team gifted me hearing aids. Thought it would help./ You pull away for him to read, staring at the page before taking it and adding in a new line, /Didn't think I'd make it deaf./

The look on your face told him how much that bothered you—or, at least, a whisper of how much it used to bother you. He thinks you may be used to it by now…

"Seemed to work, huh?" he asks with a slight chuckle in an attempt to brighten your mood again.

But you shake your head as you pull the notepad back. /When Games started, too much. Ripped them out and ran./ You sigh gently, swallowing thickly. /Couldn't handle it./

He listens in, his full attention heeding your words. "So you never wear them?"

You shake your head. /Do not like to./

He nods gently. "Because it hurt?" he asks, trying to understand.

You think for a moment before raising your hand and shaking it like before, meaning a different thing this time. /Kind of,/ you write.

You sigh and raise your hands, loosely clawed in front of you as you bring them into your chest in fists. Then you pick up your pen to translate. /Trust me?/

He nods. "Yeah."

/Sure?/

His second nod is more firm. "Yes."

He watches you grab a hand towel. You lift it up, gesturing to him with it and he nods his approval once again. You step behind him and tie it around his head to cover his eyes.

After you blindfold him, sure that he no longer has sight, you turn off all the lights and spin him around a couple times before you lead him into the living room.

Without his sight, Finnick is reduced to having to let you lead him where you want him. And he trusts you. He sways on his feet for a moment, standing still when you stop guiding him again.

"Can I look now?" he asks, his hands out by his side blindly if not for anything but balance.

He hears your voice, the slight sound of you clearing your throat before humming gently, like you're feeling for it. Then he hears your broken response, unaccustomed to actually speaking.

"N-o," you mumble. He smiles a little, and you think he's weird—in a good way.

After a moment of silence where the both of you just stand there and do nothing, he feels you begin to remove the towel from his face. You don't give him a chance to adjust to the dark, you just flip the closest light on and let him have it.

He winces, shielding his face as the shock sets in. You smile gently as you apologize, rubbing your fist over your chest in a circle. When his eyes adjust to the light once more to look at you, your smile is still a fond apology as you motion to your ears.

He breathes lightly. “That’s what it felt like for you?” You make a “bigger” motion with your hands as you nod. “That’s awful,” he mumbles.

You shrug as you begin to walk back to the dining table to grab your pen and notepad again. As you take a seat on the sofa, you bring your legs up under you and invite him to sit beside you. He watches you write something as you prop the notepad against your thighs. You show it to him when you finish.

/What do you like to do?/

He is happy to answer as he settles back and thinks for a moment before offering his reply. You sit and talk back and forth for a long time. You don’t really keep track as you learn that Finnick loves to swim and he dabbles in cooking when he can. You learn that he likes the color blue, but his favorite color is probably white. You learn that he is a “live life like it’s your last day” type of person because of his experience with the games (a philosophy you have adopted yourself in a smaller intensity). You learn that he’s more fond of the quiet than the rowdy crowds he’s grown accustomed to.

Finnick learns that you also like the water, but you enjoy sitting under the surface and feeling like the world is just as silent as you in a way that isn’t so interesting to the rest of the world. He learns that you don’t have a favorite color but you always say green, that you’re not a people person but everyone thinks you’re a person who loves people, and that you like to watch Hecton play the guitar while he lets you set your hand on the body of it to feel what he plays.

You don’t know when you fall asleep on the couch, laying against the back of it with your head turned toward the large, cushy pillow that supports your head. You’re curled up against it, and Finnick thinks you look precious. He’s not long after you as he dozes off on the couch. Neither of you touch at all, hands to yourself as you let the night ease on around you. But the presence is comfortable enough, you’re happy for it.

But sometime in the night, you don’t know when, how long the passage of time had gotten to be, the calm that had set over you slowly began to fade and slip into something a little more unnerving. Uneasiness sets in your bones, makes you queasy as your fingers twitch. You hum, a groan that slips from between your lips and rouses Finnick as he opens his eyes and glances your way, eyes still heavy with sleep.

He starts to sit up as he sees you shift, your breath quickened and your muscles twitching. He calls your name gently, a first instinct he immediately realizes isn’t going to work. He hears you hum again and begins to reach a hand out. His fingers hardly brush the skin of your arm when your eyes suddenly open. You’re muttering something intelligible to yourself as you glance around frantically, eyes glazed over and movements full of adrenaline.

“Woah, you’re good,” he tries as you grip the cushions on the couch. It’s too warm and it’s cushy and you don’t want to be up there anymore. He’s still trying to ease you, hands out like you’re a frightened animal ready to attack him. You slide off the couch and onto the floor, where the cold hardwood greets your skin as you catch your breath, your face tucked between your arms as your whole body heaves for air.

He lets you stay there, concern written all over his face as he tries to figure out what the issue is. He guesses they’re just nightmares, bad, ugly nightmares that he, himself, has faced over and over and over again. He waits and waits and waits for your body to steady and for your breath to calm, keeping his hands out but away as he waits for you to recover.

When you’ve calmed down again, you lift your head and sit back against the floor, turning toward him with lethargic muscles, your adrenaline already waning as the exhaustion from before trumps everything else. You catch the movement of Finnick’s lips from out of the corner of your eye and turn to see him speak. “What’s wrong?”

You breathe in slowly, filling your whole chest as you gather yourself enough to answer. You stroke a circle over your chest with your fist, a movement he remembers seeing you do earlier when you were apologizing to him. He shakes his head gently, slowly shifting off of the couch to join you on the floor, giving you space as he props his elbow on the cushion.

“S’okay,” he says, his lips moving gently around the word. “What happened?”

You breathe out slowly, still centering yourself. You lean toward the table, sliding the notepad over with lazy movements. You contemplate before writing. /Vibrations./ You show it to him and he tilts his head. /I sleep with my hand on the floor. It lets me know if someone is coming, I can feel the footsteps in the ground. It wakes me up and keeps me out of trouble./

The way you write is different now, filling the missing blanks of words you’d usually leave out because they were unnecessary. Like you’re too tired to summarize, letting the words do their job as you slump against the table like you haven’t slept in ages and are simply going through the motions.

He moves slowly, letting you see what’s happening before it happens as he sets his hand atop your own on the table. You don’t move, glancing at his hand and letting it happen as his skin brushes yours. He feels honored.

“Well,” he says, “you’re safe here.” With me.

You manage to pull the corners of your lips up into a small smile, turning your hand so his rests in your palm. You raise your free hand to your chin. /Thank you./ You take a moment to sit there, looking at each other and enjoying the feelings of your hand in the other’s. Then you pull your hand away regretfully and pick up your pen.

/I should get back to my floor before my people worry./

He reads it off and nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he sighs, already moving to stand to his feet as he holds his hand out to help you, hoping you would accept. When you do, he smiles. You lift yourself to your feet and give him another of your best in this condition.

You pick up the notepad one more time. /Thank you for the sweets. And for the company. I liked talking with you./

He puts a hand to his heart, too heartfelt to be teasing as he dips his head slightly. “My pleasure.”

Finnick walks with you to the elevator, standing by you in silence after the button is pressed as you both wait for the doors to slide open. When they do, you step in and offer yet another warm smile as you sigh and wave, mouthing the word “bye” as you depart from him, sad to go. He mouths the word back to you, though you’re not positive he spoke them as he offers a small wave of his own.

The doors shut and Finnick misses you already.

The blaring lights, (otherwise) deafening crowds, and extravagant costumes are something you get used to and never get used to all at once. All the attention is on you, and it's your job to make sure they are entertained as you make your way onto the stage with Hecton's at your side.

Lucky is standing, that unnervingly large grin tearing his face in two as he watches you excitedly. His hand is extended toward you, both to show you off and welcome you in.

"Hello, my dear!" he exclaims theatrically as he takes your hand. He places a kiss to your knuckles and then shakes Hecton's hand as well. You all take your seats, your smile the picture of thrilled.

"It's been a while since we have last spoken, hasn't it?" He stops dramatically and then says, "Well, a while since I spoke to you, at least." The air is on the fritz with cheers and laughter and more clapping as you look around at everyone. Lucky's laughter is just as wide. "How have you been, Y/N?"

You look at Hecton, your smile and his set in perfection. He speaks as you sign, beginning his role as your ultimate translator. "I've been great, Lucky. I've missed you!"

His big brows furrow as he slaps a hand over his heart. He turns to the adoring fans. "Oh, isn't that sweet?" He laughs again and looks back at you, his expression calmer but no less dramatic. "I have also missed you, my dear. Now, tell me, this is a tour for some of our previous victors, have you met any of them yet?" He leans in like you're sharing a secret.

"I'm glad you asked, I have. It's been great getting to be reacquainted with old friends and making new ones."

"Ooo," he says, looking around and encouraging the crowd to join in. "New ones like who?" He sits up straight and brings a finger to his lips, glancing away and smiling slyly. "I know I have it from a reliable source that you were mingling with District 4 Champion, Finnick Odair." He leans forward with narrowed eyes. "Do I sense something blossoming?"

He and the crowd tease you, making lovey dovey noises that you don't hear but definitely feel as you glance at Hecton and he raises his thick brows in amusement.

"Oh, Lucky," you smile like you'll laugh as Hecton continues to read your hands. "I wish I could agree, but who am I to say?" You shrug it off with a sigh.

"Oh, really?" he jabs. "Because when I brought it up with Finnick, I believe he described you as 'a special kind of beauty'." This riles the crowd up even more, they cheer louder and the air feels suffocating. You smile through it.

"Did he now?"

"He did."

Lucky laughs dramatically, Hecton laughs less dramatically, and the crowd eats right out of the palm of your hands.

"Well," Hecton says as you catch the attention again, "you know I'm not one to gossip."

"Ohh, not just this once?" He says it like he'll cry.

"I wish I could."

He sighs heavily. "Oh, well." The crowds 'aww's and you give an apologetic smile to them all. Lucky leans over and takes your hand in his, which you then cover with your own. "It has been lovely catching up with you, my dear. And you, too, Hecton, my friend." Hecton nods. "I hope to see you again soon, both of you—I do so love our talks!"

"As do I, Lucky. As do I."

He puts both hands over his chest this time, smiling with sadness to see you go. "Would you give us a kiss before you go?"

You stand to face the crowd and kiss your hand, blowing it out to them as they scream and shout for you. You beam and look at them all, waving happily.

"Oh, fantastic!" Lucky exclaims as he stands to join your side, Hecton at the other. He takes one of your hands again. "It is always a pleasure."

"The pleasure is all mine."

He turns to the adoring audience. "Our Silent Spectacle, everybody!"

They scream and shout and you press your cheeks to Lucky's before you and Hecton leave the stage. Even after you're past the curtain where they can no longer see you, you keep the smile as wide as you can until it trembles out of place.

/Very well done, Y/N,/ Hecton congratulates.

You huff out a tiring breath, massaging your cheeks before regaining your posture and masking your frown with a much softer smile as you respond. /It's exhausting./

He offers a sympathetic look. /Maybe so, but they love it./ He glances at you again, noticing the fatigue in your eyes and your twitching lips, the nerves kicking from overuse. He sighs, taking your hand and turning you to him.

/You've got to keep them happy./

You look at him, how his words reflected a deeper worry, a double meaning that surpasses the gratification of your adoring crowds. Your eyes glue to his own, solemn, sober—a fair contrast from the faces surrounding you, drunk on the sap of their own self-importance.

/I know,/ you nod.

The tense moment is interrupted as a new player enters the arena. Hecton is the one to turn first, redirecting your attention toward the person approaching you. You immediately smile, an instinct by this point as you turn your gaze on your next audience. It only takes a moment for you to recognize the person, and your smile comes a little easier.

Seeing the situation before he approaches, Finnick wonders whether or not it would be appropriate to interrupt. But when your mentor turns and you turn with him, and you smile a more genuine smile upon seeing him, he finds that he doesn't really care if it's appropriate right now.

"You're quite the personality," he says as he steps up, smiling himself as he tilts his head.

"They love quiet, happy girls," Hecton translates as you sign. Finnick really doesn't think his voice suits you, coarse and thick with an accent hard to find.

"That, they do," he nods. He licks his bottom lip, "So you'll be headed back off today?"

You turn toward Hecton, your jaw clenching briefly before you turn back. "Soon. I've got some business tonight and then we'll be off tomorrow."

"Business?" he raises a curious brow, taking a small step forward as his lips quirked. "What kind of business?"

You tilt your chin, a nervous kind of smile on your lips as you move a hooked finger from your nose to your cupped hand. "Nosey," you tease, though Hecton speaks it flatly.

"Oh, it's a secret?" he wonders, even more curious now. He doesn't speak like a creep as he continues, holding that same teasing feeling while also offering his genuine curiosity. "I have a thing for secrets, y'know. I can keep it safe for you…"

You do it again, with a little more delight this time. Again, Hecton's translation holds no ounce of the delight you give off as you talk to Finnick. "Nosey," he repeats, this time with a little more sternness to get him to stop asking. You give him a side glance, but he isn't affected.

Before you can communicate anything else, Hecton's sets his hand on your lower back. It isn't patronizing, he's just used to guiding you, your protector.

"Come now, Y/N," he says. "It's time we were off."

You sigh gently but nod, still smiling as you glanced up at him. You begin to wave to Finnick, but he speaks as you're waving your hand.

"Am I free to visit down in District 10?" he asks, his tone light and playful to avoid sounding as hopeful as he feels. He's just met you, and he wants to know you.

You nod quickly, too eager. You move two fingers over your fist, missing the way Hecton doesn't translate. But Finnick can figure that one out himself.

His chest floods with relief. "I'll keep it in mind."

You wave. /Goodbye, Finnick./ The way you sign his name is different. Where he is expecting to see the familiar letters you showed him last night, he finds a wave of your hands and a fond smile.

He winks at you. "Goodbye, sweetcheeks."

You scrunch your nose, circling your hand over your belly. /Gross./

Hecton is already walking you away as Finnick blows you a cheesy kiss, mirroring the one you'd done for the audience earlier. You wave him off, smiling and shaking your head as you go.

When you're far enough from him, walking away from backstage to wherever you were headed now, Hecton's intense brows are furrowed in what you can only assume is annoyance at his distrust in Finnick.

/You seemed familiar./

/Stop./

Music to My Eyes taglist: ... This is a temporary taglist for those who want to be tagged in the sequel to Music to My Eyes, Finnick Odair x Reader. Please keep in mind that once the second part is posted, the tag will disappear. Feel free to DM, comment, or send me an ask to be added, if you would like. Or simply add yourself here...

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x fem!reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #the hunger games #the hunger games fanfic #the hunger games fanfiction #finnick odair fluff #reader insert #female reader #deaf reader

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dadsbongos · 1 year ago

Note

PLEASE MORE AIRHEAD W GOJO SHOKO GETOU 🙏🙏PLEASE

5.1 K words

warnings - i borderline refused to proofread this, suguru wears a skirt and it awakens something in you, also suguru's anti-non sorcerers agenda, dumb timeline doesn't make sense (get over it), filler arc fic

summary - crack that i decided to take seriously, you and the gang go on a beach mission! and some things don't turn out as expected...

“Woah, ‘Toru, check out this yellow!” you jab a finger into the cold, hard plexiglass caging the many frozen flavors from onlooking civilians, “It’s, like, traffic sign yellow!”

“Who would eat that?” he grumbles, glaring at the engraving below the tub - advertising that specific hideous color as a special new taste, “For 4,000 yen?”

“Get me coffee, kay?” Shoko shoots you a glance from over her phone, thumb dancing across her cramped keypad, “And keep it down, you’ll piss off the vendor.”

“Yeah,” Suguru slips up beside you, nose wrinkled and chin tucked close to his chest to avoid the obnoxious scent of sweaty, huffing people, “You’re both making a scene,” his brows furrow over at your accomplice, “Didn’t you just get scolded by Yaga yesterday, Satoru?”

Suguru knows he did, actually, because who else would’ve been the one that held a bag of frozen peas to the hot red lump in Satoru’s forehead for thirty whole minutes?

“Hey,” but you’ve paid neither any mind, pointing at the other end of the display bay to a red-and-white swirled tub. The edges have browned together and its melting points have re-frozen in an unattractive slime, “Gross!” taking Satoru by the hand, you drag him over to the far corner, “Let’s check it out!”

“Hm, we’re way too early,” Shoko pokes her head through the turquoise and cream-striped tent flaps as you order.

“And one coffee scoop,” Suguru calls to you and Satoru when the clan heir beside you finishes demanding two cups of the red velvet cheesecake, pointedly ignoring the baggy-eyed, slouching teenager behind the steel counter.

“On it,” the boy grumbles, scooping up each order in hurried, jerky swings.

Satoru swings a lanky arm through one of yours, head leaning onto yours as he pathetically whines, “My blood sugar is crashing… Won’t make it much longer…”

Two plastic cups in illustrated covers of the stall’s logo slide to another awaiting couple as Satoru sets his card down in preparation to pay. You turn back to Suguru and gesture to the tubs of ice cream, frowning when he merely shakes his head. Shoko inches between you and Satoru, breaking your chain, and you take that as an opportunity to huddle into your broodier friend.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

Satoru turns back at the sound of your voice, abandoning his credit card on the counter, and Shoko watches silently.

“No, you enjoy it,” Suguru insists, smiling despite your puppy-eyed pout.

“But I don’t want you to miss out!”

“I’m happy enough that the four of us can go on a mission again.”

“How sweet,” Satoru wrangles an arm over Suguru’s shoulders, sighing with all the dramatics of a tantrum throwing toddler, “It has been too long since our last mission altogether.”

Shoko nods, moving next to you with one hand jammed into the pocket of her skirt, “It doesn’t help that you two,” she points at the boys, “decided to pick up a couple problem children.”

“Aw, c’mon,” you chirp, “That’s not fair to the girls, and Megumi’s really nice when you know him!”

“Ehh,” she waves her hand loosely, rolling her eyes, “I’ll cross those bridges when they get to high school; I’m no good with kids.”

Shrugging, you think of how well-behaved and kind both Tsumiki and Megumi are (well, Megumi has his moments), “Neither is Satoru and the Fushiguro’s seem fine.”

“Hey,” Satoru is quickly shrugged off his friend’s shoulder when he wails into Suguru’s ear with abandon, “Not fair! I’ve really improved over the months!”

“You still make him stir fry with bell peppers!”

“It’s delicious!”

You glower at his defense, “Doesn’t matter how tasty it is - Megumi’s not gonna eat it!”

Suguru can’t help but ignore the shouting in his ears in favor of appreciating the sight before him. You and Satoru and Shoko. Knowing Nanako and Mimiko are safe and happy at home. With your perfume and even Shoko’s natural nicotine cling working overtime to mask the scent of every monkey crowding this beach. Ignoring the monkeys got easier over time, keeping the real reasons he’s decided to carry on fighting in mind instead. Satoru and Shoko and Nanako and Mimiko and Haibara and Nanami and Yaga and, of course, you.

Two hands slam into his back, the rest of you just barely peeking out from around Suguru’s broad shoulders to glare at Satoru, who’s slung his tea shade sunglasses to the pad of his nose in a vague, blue-eyed threat.

Suguru claps a hand harshly against his friend’s shoulder, jostling the boy’s body, “Put them away, Satoru.”

Shoko bounds out of the small parlor with both hands in her pockets, murmuring something about needing a smoke break.

Satoru pulls his glasses entirely from his face, grinning at Suguru, “Aw, trying to be the big, brave knight?”

“Satoru,” Suguru calls lowly, impatience only thinly veiled.

Effectively cutting off the altercation, a hand cuffs the backs of yours and Satoru’s uniform collars and drags you both towards the open tent flap. Suguru curls his hands into fists at the sight but staves off a retort, even as both you and Satoru are thrown into the sand. A taller man with thicker arms, but the same sunken eyes and tight frown as the teen behind the counter squints down at the both of you, “And stay out!”

“Aw, we didn’t even get our ice cream…”

Shoko tosses her head back, melodic laugher ringing sweetly into your ears before she snaps forward, pinching at your cheek, “Sorry your boytoys couldn’t complete their mission.”

Quirking a brow at her, you don’t even bother to swipe away her fingers on your cheek, “Boytoys…?”

Satoru gasps, ‘tsk’ing at Shoko while covering your ears, “Hey, keep her innocent!”

Shoko removes her hand from you just to knock Satoru’s off the sides of your head. She looks over her shoulder, lips pursing as she surveys the cramped line of tented and umbrella’d stalls, “We should split up. You two are just causing trouble,” she grins at Satoru’s offended look, “As usual.”

Suguru hums, testy and wholly argumentative, “I think we should lay low for the next couple of hours and come back. The curse is more likely to come out at night.”

You frown at the thought of being stuffed into a yellow-walled, vaguely blood-stained, two bed hotel room.

And Suguru backtracks, “Nevermind.”

Snagging you by the arm, Shoko jerks you into her side and jabs a thumb over her shoulder, “We’ll be investigating some swimsuit tents, get a sense of any residuals or smaller curses,” then she points at the duo before you, “You two should find your own thing.”

You’ve given no say before being dragged off to a snowy white tent, sand kicked up and sticking to the flowy drapes. Even small shops for clothing can carry lingering, bothersome curses with anxiety over fat that naturally rolls and jiggles or peeking scars and colored splotches. And despite only having about two years of official sorcery under your belt, you’ve noticed that lingerie, typical underwear, and swimsuits were especially troublesome for gathering curses.

That’s especially noticeable when flyheads and low grade spirits crawl along the tarp, crinkling, unpleasant floor and clawing into the legs and necks of unassuming women. But Shoko has taken no interest in any of them.

Instead, she shoves another wood hanger into your face, “What about this one?”

“Mmm,” clicking your tongue, the sight of a neon orange with lemon yellow lining inspires no particular sparkles or electricity under your skin, “nah.”

Shoko nods and clinks the hanger back onto the rod, “Agreed.”

“Hey, Shoko?” you tilt your head at her, holding out the two swimsuit sets already dangling off your fingers, “How’re we paying for these?”

“Ah!” she snickers, fingers dipping into a skirt pocket before proudly displaying a black, plastic card in her palm, “The Strongest left his card out, so I’m teaching him a lesson,” tucking her hand back into hiding, she grins at you, “So rack up as many as you want.”

“Hmm…”

“He’ll hardly even know the money’s gone.”

“Isn’t that stealing?”

She shrugs, “No.”

Your lashes narrow at that response, brows furrowing, before beaming at Shoko with an enthusiastic nod, “Okay :D”

“That’s the spirit!” she claps you on the back, like a father after his son’s first little league championship.

And like a bushy-tailed young child unburdened by popularity contests and pinching pennies and needing to press the best words into the best order to feel adequate, you gaze out at the seven, stunted racks with wonder. Golden wheat fields that sway in long waves under the wind that whistles through pokey tree branches. A land all yours.

And like every conqueror before, you’re eager to feed on the dancing wheat you don’t yet own, “I wonder which one I’ll wear first.”

“I wonder if they’d want something…” Suguru mutters, only for his own ears.

Satoru blows a raspberry from behind his friend, chin settling onto Suguru’s shoulder and staring down at the wiry, iron shelf with painted, glazed shells and tiny red-lipsticked ladies with thick black curls and wooden curves on plastic, circle podiums and chunky plastic beaded necklaces.

“You’re so obsessed.”

Suguru grunts, slamming an elbow into Satoru’s gut and making no contact, “You were thinking it, too.”

“Not like you,” Satoru waves off, patting himself down for the thin outline of his credit card. When the first search comes up entirely empty, he looks over at Suguru, “Uh,” then returns to his pockets, hands dipping into the gaps, “Huh.”

“What?”

“I don’t have my card,” Satoru taps his foot once, then twice, then shrugs, “Oops.”

“‘Oops,’” Suguru snickers, “Are you gonna cut it off?”

“It’ll turn up somewhere,” stretching his hands above his head, Satoru yawns, “Sorry we can’t get your girlfriend anything.”

“And Shoko. And she’s not my girlfriend… We really should’ve just gone to a hotel, all the smaller curses will be attracted to the dock.”

Satoru can’t even be bothered to deny Suguru his natural right to feeling smug, just turning and waltzing out from the cheap, tacky souvenir stand under a peachy umbrella. Sweat beads miserably down his back and forehead from under his black uniform, shoes sinking into the sand with every step towards the coast.

It was something that nagged at the both of them, honestly. The surface-level pointlessness of this mission, especially the early nature of your group’s settlement. And especially especially because it was so immediately easy to feel where the strongest cursed energy was coming from. Like this buzzing, tender freeze that washed over the both of them - pulling towards one spot on the cluttered beach.

A lone dock by the crashing shore. Splintering, crooked pillars with a deflated, banana yellow ducky floatie dangling between two planks. Likely yet another test of courage spot, popular among vacationing families with young siblings and cousins; eight children of varying ages missing.

“It is weird,” Satoru lowers his glasses along the bridge of his nose, “that all four of us were sent out. Nanami probably could’ve taken this out by himself if it’s just another grade two.”

Suguru shrugs from behind his friend, “Must be a good reason we were all sent out. Maybe the eight brats.”

“Jeez,” Satoru bats a hand backwards in an attempt to smack his friend, he misses completely, “At least sound sympathetic!”

Just before Suguru can reply, your voice is singing out their names. The two turn and Suguru is a little ashamed in the way his body stiffens at the sight of you in a cherry-print bikini. Shoko lingers at your back, texting who you all silently agree to be Utahime. You bounce into the spot before your friends, hands behind your back and a blinding grin curling into your cheeks.

“You look nice,” Suguru’s own voice is lost on him, heart beating so loud in his ears that he can’t quite hear himself. He hopes he sounded suave. He hopes it makes you forget every time he’s embarrassed himself in front of you, and all you see is the charming Suguru that your mom would just love.

“Aww, thanks!” you giggle, holding your bundled uniform tighter to your chest. And he’s even more humiliated over the hope that you’re trying to hide the pounding of your own heart.

Satoru nudges Suguru with an elbow and the favor is returned with a foot jamming down on Satoru’s shoe.

“Shoko and I both agreed,” you unknowingly interrupt their spat, “that before we all totally die, we should have fun on the beach!”

“You shouldn’t say it like that…” Suguru sighs, but the smile is still plain on his face. That question from earlier rises in him - why were you all sent here?

“I think that’s a great idea!” Satoru extends an arm towards you and gladly allows you to tug him towards the water, only releasing hold to let him reactivate his infinity.

Shoko watches from the shoreline with Suguru. She looks up at the man, flipping her phone shut, “You never complimented me, you know?”

“Huh?” Suguru looks first at Shoko’s twisted simper, her raised brow, her low hanging eyelids that let her lashes flutter against her cheeks. Then he notices - a black bikini hugging her own body. He flushes, not over the sight - but because he was caught, “Sorry.”

“You’re such a sucker,” she snickers.

He was caught with that familiar lump in his throat and lethally beating in his chest that only you could cause.

“Hey!” and, of course, it’s you again who calls to him, “C’mon, we wanna play chicken!”

And he’s caught again, red-faced; stripping off his shirt and shoes and socks while Shoko laughs at him. She holds out her phone and watches as he carefully wraps it in his uniform overshirt before trudging down the sands towards you and Satoru. Shoko wades through the crashing water towards Satoru, her hands find his shoulders when they all notice he hasn’t yet joined.

You’re pouting at him and Satoru is groaning, “Just get in! They’re pants - they’ll dry!”

“Easy for you to say,” Suguru huffs, squirming at the feeling of water sticking his pants to his shins as he slowly creeps into the chilled ocean, “Just use infinity for everything…”

“What was that?!” Satoru cups a hand over his ear, neck craning outwards as Suguru approaches, “Didn’t catch that last bit.”

“You’re annoying,” Suguru declares, latching to your side and crouching down just enough for you to scramble up onto his shoulders yet still keep his boxers dry. He feels your arms wrap around his neck, then your thighs bracket shakily around his waist. Suguru palms your thighs and helps lift you to sit up on the broad expanse of his shoulders.

Meanwhile, Satoru yawns, hands on his hips, as Shoko tries yanking herself up onto his back.

“Hey!” she snaps, pounding a fist into his back knowing full well he wouldn’t feel it, “Bend down, would you?!”

“Huh?” Satoru turns to stare down Shoko over his shoulder, sticking his tongue out at her, “Oh! Oops, sometimes I forget how short you are!”

“Hey!”

Suguru tilts his head back to look up at you, both arms secure around your legs, “You okay up there?”

You nod slowly, fingers gently brushing the stray hairs of his bangs from his face, “Uh-huh.”

“See,” Satoru gestures out to you and Suguru, “even our favorite bubble-brain got it done. You’re just not trying hard enough.”

And once again, Shoko digs a fist into his back (and then another when he mockingly hisses and whines).

…

“Don’t be long,” Shoko exhales, noxious smoke rising from her lips with a cigarette perched between two fingers and, in that same hand, texting Utahime once again.

“It’d be quicker if you weren’t slacking off,” Satoru ‘tsk’s, already heading down to the creaky dock with his hands stuffed in his pockets. His cheeks are flaring red from hours prior in the sun, even after the four of you had crawled into a hotspot restaurant to change and cool down.

“Thanks again,” Suguru still clings to your side and you let him, even leaning into it.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Sugu,” you grin.

You hadn’t been concerned with how civilians would perceive Suguru in your uniform skirt when he changed out of his soaked pants - not that he’d really care how non-sorcerers think of him anyway. But some bizarre part of you can’t stop looking at his legs in your skirt.

He insisted that you keep your leggings, so his skin is bare to the moonlight past his mid-thigh.

It’s bizarre, most definitely, the part of you that keeps staring at the flex of his thighs beneath your skirt as you both soldier through the sand dunes. Your hand finds Suguru’s and you cradle his arm against your chest, Satoru nowhere in sight. The both of you shuffling under the dock, eyes narrowing in search of your little white-haired friend. You shift closer to Suguru the longer your search goes, hand winding tighter within his.

Wind blows under Suguru’s stolen skirt and chills against your skin, the waves lapping at mushy sand. Your blood beats in your ears, Suguru already peering up at the midnight sky through the gaps in the dock.

Hot air puffs against the side of your face, pale skin bouncing moonlight into your peripherals in a flash, “Boo!”

“Ah!” you squeal, jumping somehow closer into Suguru, glaring at the cackling man through narrowed lashes, “Gojo!”

“Aw,” Satoru pretends to wipe a tear from his eye, flicking the nonexistent tear at you, “So formal! Aren’t we friends?”

“Not after that!”

“Satoru,” Suguru’s resilience is quieter than yours, the hand not entwined with yours is firm on his hip, “You really scared her,” you nod with a ‘hmph!’, “She was already on edge, looking for you no less.”

Satoru drapes himself over you like a frail Victorian woman in shock, “I’m sorry,” he wraps both arms around your neck and squeezes you into his chest, “Will you ever forgive me?”

“Hmm…”

A creak shutters just ahead. The deflated, wrinkly duck floatie shivers. All three heads turn into the abyss.

You tuck your chin close to your chest, wringing your arms around one of Suguru’s as you call, “Hey, Shoko?!”

“What?!” but her call is undeniably still in the direction where you three left her.

“Here it is,” Satoru murmurs, turning to grin at you, nudging his head towards the darkness just ahead, “Let’s go!”

Begrudgingly, you allow Suguru to guide you into the creaking, inky space under this dock.

“You’re making the curse stronger, you know?” Satoru turns to face you, walking backwards with both hands in his pockets.

You groan and go to argue back, but a blobby, brown, mucky curse plops in front of your group. The three of you pause and the little thing blinks up at your group.

It throbs.

“Ew!” you stomp down onto the curse, sand poofs up around your boot and the muddy body pops, splattering around your group’s feet.

“Didn’t even need a technique,” Suguru looks up from the scene of your crime, glaring back down into the darkness, “We weren’t sent here for that.”

The wind brushes past you again, your shoulders bunching up in a vain attempt to keep you warm with too-thin leggings. Suguru’s stolen skirt lifts and he pulls you tighter to his side. Satoru stares down the dock with a tight wound face, glasses slipping down his nose and eyebrows scrunched together with a scowl. You hadn’t seen him like this in a long while. Since Fushiguro, Toji had cut you down. Since that single, echoing shot in the dimly lit tomb’s main chamber.

“Ah…” Satoru switches the weight on his feet, snagging you and Suguru by the fronts of your uniforms and drags you both far to the right. Sand sloshes up in big, cloudy puffs; opaque, turquoise tentacles crash into the spot where your trio once stood, “This could actually be troublesome.”

“Stop being mysterious!” you pop your palm against the side of his head despite knowing his infinity is raised, “What’re you talking about?”

“This curse,” he rolls his eyes with all the annoying arrogance possibly mustered when you and Suguru tilt your heads at his pause, “This curse definitely has one of Sukuna’s fingers.”

“That would explain the loose ofuda,” Suguru notes.

You shiver at the mere idea of the King of Curses aiding your opponent, “How would that even happen?”

“Dunno,” Satoru shrugs and releases the both of you, flexing his fingers of the remaining tension, “We definitely need to take it back though.”

“Definitely,” you nod curtly.

A bulbous head sinks into the moonlight, shiny and smooth and thin, wiry purple webs spread across the surface. The gelatinous skin ripples, entire head jiggling before the turquoise splits and gives way to an eyeball - it bulges wide and the pitch black pupils darts around the surrounding area before settling, shakily onto you, Suguru, and Satoru.

Two big, clawed hands latch onto the back of your uniform top, retching you back. A look up confirms it to be one of Suguru’s more beastly stored curses. Your friend himself stares up at you, “Try and get the eye. Satoru and I will distract the tentacles.”

You nod eagerly, showing off a thumbs up before jamming your arms straight to your sides, “You got it!”

And like the most impressive cartoon clown, you explode out towards the curse. Thrown from Suguru's strong arms ( :D ).

You rip your hands away from your sides and throw them out in front of you, fingers stretching wide as you hurdle towards the fleshy eyeball. Your fingertips are mere inches from grazing the eye, when the pupil turns onto you. A loud crash through sand rings out behind you, two calls of your name, and your heart shoots into your throat.

And the eyeball sinks back with another round of grotesque, rippling skin. You slam into the round head and bounce back off with a freshly punched-out gush of air.

“I got you!” Satoru calls from below, arms out wide to catch you before you could plummet into sand.

“That was such a dirty trick,” you huff, steadying back onto your feet and glaring at the curse. The eyeball peeps out, bumping from the top of its head.

With a teasing hum, Satoru finally tucks his glasses into his pants’ pocket, “It’d be a lot easier if you could just hurry up and learn Domain Expansion.”

“You can’t do it either, Satoru!” Suguru comes to both of your sides.

One of the forefront tentacles flicks up violently, crashing through the unstable, weak wood of the dock. Slats and splinters rain down as the tentacle flies towards your spot on the shore. Satoru and Suguru split from your sides while you remain firm in the sand.

Your arms fly out wide, grinning as you cheer, “Come in for a big hug!” wrapping your arms around the heavy limb, you squeeze and squish your hands down into the fleshy tentacle. The cursed energy of your mother and your mother’s mother and her mother and so on, courses through you in a raging fire. Your nails dig into the curse as you shout once more, “Snip!”

And the tentacle goes limp.

Sliding out from under the weight, you spot Satoru wringing a hand back - some invisible, evolving mass heaving in his palm and drawing the large octopus head forward.

Satoru calls out, “If you wanna swallow this one, you better hurry up and do something, Suguru!”

Rolling his eyes, Suguru watches his Rainbow Dragon untangle, sand flapping out with its tail and tearing up a lonely palm tree. He sweeps you up and seats you in front of him while flying forward on the creature’s back.

“Try and keep it busy for now,” he sets you back down on relatively even sand, “Satoru, make it puke out the finger! I’ll get it from behind!”

“Phrasing!”

You eye the two special grades with a groan, “I’m not a diversion, ya know?!”

But Suguru is already behind and beneath the curse’s line of sight, drawing his own ball of mass into his palm.

And, unfortunately, this pseudo-plan is one you’re already familiar with.

You attack the limbs and divert attention with Satoru as back-up while Suguru condenses and consumes.

But, also unfortunately, this pseudo-plan isn’t usually employed against special grade curses post-swallowing Sukuna’s finger. A special grade (post-swallowing Sukuna’s finger) with the intelligence to avoid your Cursed Technique.

“This isn’t working!” you shout at Satoru after having yet another tentacle shot out of grabbing-range.

He lets one of the remaining tentacles bash close against his infinity, using the force to get to your side.

“Then how ‘bout a change of plans?” Satoru takes no feedback before shooting you up and towards the creature's head, snagging and yanking tentacles to twitch the head upwards.

A gaping, drooly maw is exposed; gnashing, gummy walls in place of teeth. And beneath layers of squishy pink, is a lashing gray tongue. And where there’s a tongue, there must be a stomach.

“Woohoo!” you flail out your arms, squishing between the gums to dig your nails into the creature’s tongue (“The radula!” Shoko would tease, if she were watching). A shaky, ugly groan comes from the creature and it hangs its mouth open, trying to slip you off its organ - the sand is far below. You squeeze tighter when a gush of saliva drips down the tongue - fire rushes through your veins, scorching at your fingertips as you chant, “Snip!”

From above, a loud retch, and the deep purple roof gapes with a single, fleshy finger falling out.

You reach out hurriedly, hands clapping around the cursed object before the sudden effect of gravity takes precedent. The sand begins rushing upward, wind whipping rudely at your hair as the curse above you is sucked into an ugly mauve ball in Suguru’s palm. Not seconds after absorbing the curse, he sends his Rainbow Dragon down after you.

One arm swings around you, pulling you over in front of him, while the other holds the grotesque orb. He holds it less gingerly than you hold Sukuna’s finger, cradling the item to your chest.

“Yay! Thanks, Sugu’,” you lean into his chest, hands still tucked to your chest as you both come back down onto the uneven, pitted sand with scattered, rooted palm trees laying around carelessly.

“Are you hurt?” Suguru scans the skin he can see, “It’s saliva wasn’t venomous, right?”

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” you shrug, “I’ll be okay!”

“And you, Satoru?”

“Don’t worry about me, I just got to be your pretty distraction.”

Suguru nods, turning away all the same to swallow his newest curse.

Satoru comes in front of you, white button up on display with his uniform jacket held out, he nods in the direction of your hands, “Here, we can wrap it in this until we get back.”

Dumping the finger into the center of his jacket, your attention is quickly stolen away by the way Suguru gags around the cursed orb. Satoru cradles the freshly wrapped finger to his chest, settling a hand against his friend’s quivering shoulder. You pat Suguru’s back, leaning your head against his arm as he shudders down the taste, watching his face stretch into a grimace.

But he quickly overcomes it when he notices how you and Satoru are preening over him, clearing his throat and shaking out his tense shoulders.

Another throat clears, further up the shore. A lithe, dainty hand waves, Shoko’s lips grinning around an unlit cigarette - her wave turns into a single finger, pointing up at the clear sky, “None of you put up a veil!”

“Oops…” you pout under the stars, they flicker as if winking just to tease you.

Satoru groans, flinging out his arms in exasperation, already wandering towards Shoko, “It’s nighttime, what does a veil even matter?!”

Suddenly, you perk up, nodding, “Yeah! Exactly!”

Suguru sighs, “Someone’s getting punished for this.”

You take his hand, dragging him through the sand, “Who do you think Yaga will choose?”

…

“It was her!”

Both Satoru and Suguru point over at you, brows furrowed in determination. Your hands squeeze tighter around your skirt (which you freshly got back from a re-pants Suguru), fists pushing into your thighs as the three of you kneel before Yaga.

Stubbornly, you shake your head, “No way, that’s really not fair! It was on all three of us!” when Yaga maintains his stern, crossed arms, you continue, “Shoko could’ve done it! I didn’t even really notice- “

Yaga unfolds his arms, waving you up into a stand, “You don’t have to give credit to save your friends when you’re who found Sukuna’s finger.”

Once again, you try to refuse, but Suguru beats you to the punch, “She was vital in obtaining the cursed object, we couldn’t have retrieved it without her.”

Satoru nods twice to his friend’s point.

“You can join Ieiri,” Yaga’s brows somehow wrinkle even more, a finger pointing in your face, “You’re free because you found the finger. Don’t forget a veil again.”

“Yes, sir!” you chirp, the back of your uniform collar being tugged upward by Shoko. She’s already dragging you out of your teacher’s (now principal’s) office, but you spare the time to turn and wave to your friends, “Good luck, ‘Toru and Sugu’ - I’ll get nice flowers to send your moms!”

Satoru squirms from where he’s kneeling, hand shooting up as soon as you’re out of the room. He can see it perfectly now, a big red welt on the back of his head and a matching one for Suguru, “Actually, she couldn’t have gotten the finger without us, so maybe this punishment isn’t necessary!”

Suguru glares at his friend, “You can’t undo a good deed like that, it’s embarrassing.”

“I could let you off,” Yaga hums, “But you forget, Gojo, this isn’t your first time refusing to put up a veil.”

“It’s not refusing!” he honestly just forgets sometimes! He swears!

Suguru would hit Satoru himself if he weren’t trying so hard to stay still, “You’re making it worse!”

…

“I hope they’ll be okay…” you murmur, hugging Shoko’s arm to your chest as the both of you head down the long steps from Jujutsu Tech, “Yaga didn’t seem too mad, right?”

Shoko watches your step down the stairs for you (your stare now focused on a gaggle of birds singing overhead), “We’ll see if white mums are on sale - take that as our omen.”

And when you both see that banana yellow sign in your favorite old lady’s flower shop advertising bundles of white chrysanthemums for only 1,000 yen a piece - you send a prayer to Satoru and Suguru’s souls.

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #shoko x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #shoko ieiri x reader #airhead reader

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aayakashii · 2 months ago

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This is just a silly little fic with absolutely bonkers logic and the gifs are there just to illustrate the actions I'm describing, have fun with me 🫡

It's a full moon. The air is humid, the night is cloudy, and you're tangled in your sheets, trying to sleep in the poorly ventilated room of the run-down cathedral. You drift on and off from sleep, tossing and turning on your bed, when you suddenly hear a noise coming from your door.

Scratch scratch scratch.

You try to shrug it off, chalk it up to some critter running around – heavens know there's a lot of them in this place – but it just doesn't stop.

Scratch scratch scratch. Scratch scratch scratch.

With a curse, you untangle your legs from your blanket and stomp your way towards the bedroom's door, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

You open the door harshly, ready to shoo something away (you hoped it was just one of the many campus cats), but when you look down, your eyes meet something you definitely wasn't expecting.

Right there, by your feet, there's a dog. A puppy, to be exact. Its fur is a mess of dark gray with a streak of yellow, and it huffed impatiently right after you opened the door, as if it was waiting for you to do that. With a grumpy and loud sigh, that tiny little thing with stubby legs makes its way inside your room, like it owns it.

You watch it with raised eyebrows, as it sniffs around your room and drags a dirty blanket by his teeth – it was bigger than its body, so the puppy occasionally tripped while trying to dutifully drag the blanket along.

The puppy looks up, apparently locking into your lofted bed, and makes way towards the stairs. Your phone rings while you watch it struggle to go up.

"Rui?" You answer the call as soon as you recognize the caller. It's weird for him to call you so late into the night, so you try to ignore the sudden puppy invasion and focus on him.

"Hey cutie! So sorry for the late call but this couldn't wait."

"What's up? Is everything okay?"

"Soooooo, this will sound suuuper weird probably but have you maybe seen a dog around?"

You widen your eyes, and slowly make your way to your bed, which the dog was now trying to (unsuccessfully) climb after a long and arduous battle against the stairs.

"In fact, I have seen a dog. There's an unknown puppy here right now. It woke me up just a few moments ago."

"Haha so, yeah!" Rui laughs awkwardly "Would you believe me if I tell you that's Lyca?"

You deadpan, staring at the puppy that is now getting cozy on your bed, putting its awfully stinky blanket on your sheets.

Lyca's stinky blanket.

You sigh.

"What the fuck happened now..."

Rui laughs awkwardly again.

"Beats me! Lyca asked to turn into a wolf during this full moon since it's been a while and instincts or whatever – werewolf stuff, am I right? – and Ed's guess is that some weird clouds went over the moon while he was turning and he became, well... a puppy."

You squint your eyes in disbelief even though Rui can't see it.

"You're kidding."

"I also think he might be joking, truthfully! But his guess is as best as mine."

"So now Lyca is a puppy?!"

You observe Lyca sleeping soundly on your bed, in between your pillows.

"Well... yeah?" Rui answers, not sounding very sure of himself "For like two or three days I think, at least until the moon wanes for real."

You rub your temples and think about buying laundry soap to clean your sheets and dog shampoo to wash Lyca's puppy stink.

"And now I have a surprise puppy?"

"Well, he trusts you, I guess" Rui says, sounding a little bit bitter.

You think about groaning out loud, but stop yourself before you making any noise that could wake Lyca up.

"Will you at least help me buy dog food?"

Rui laughs, now sincerely.

"Of course, cutie! Sorry to drop this on you right now in the middle of the night!"

You two bid your good nights, and you watch Lyca while his dark grey paws move around as he dreams (probably about running).

You are a puppy parent now. Congratulations. It's time to go borrow a baby sling from Haru.

Extra headcanons

You do borrow a baby sling from Haru because Lyca has the energy of a thousand power plants. You need to keep him close otherwise he'll probably destroy something and cause the second Clash. These are now your outfits:

Lyca has the biggest zoomies you have ever seen in your life from any dog ever. And in the worst timing ever. It's either right before class or late at night. If you hear a sudden taptaptap, you just know it's him and his sharp nails scratching the wooden floor. You look to the side and he's like this

One time you do end up losing him. You blinked and he was gone. After a LONG and desperate search, you find out Lyca is actually in Vagastrom. Apparently Alan is very good with dogs and you find the two of them working out. Well, ALAN working out. Lyca was just doing his best with his little legs.

As expected, Subaru is very helpful. He finds the whole situation amusing, despite worrying for his friend. Once he finds out that he will go back to normal though, he absolutely loves it. And it turns out that Lyca loves to play in the rain and in pools/lakes and Subaru is very enabling. It's not him that will have to give the stinky puppy a bath later on, after all!

Speaking of baths, he hates them. Not surprising at all. But he's small and you're a giant next to him, so he can't escape his suffering the bath. You've taken plenty of pictures of him in situations like this:

He also hates that he has to eat dog food. He wants Sho's lunch!!!! He WILL run like mad to get to Sho's food truck. If you blink, he'll go ZYOOOOMMMMM

But little did he know: you already warned Sho about not feeding your spoiled rescue. This is him whenever you or Subaru are eating Sho's food.

Also him after eating actual proper dog food.

Gimme all your headcanons btw @ghoulspaw 🎤

#tokyo debunker

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laurrelise · 3 months ago

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hey what’s up moots. i have been mia on tumblr for the better part of a week

pov: days ago i saw some really cool fanart for the umbrella academy and found out it was an illustration of a scene from an au fic (holding it together by sharkneto) and was bored and decided to start reading and just see if i liked it, no big deal

fast forward to now, about a week later, where i’ve read the 90k word fic plus it’s 196k word prequel fic (joining together, also by sharkneto) in every second of my free time and i’m so desperately and emotionally attached to both of them that i genuinely have no idea what to do with myself now.

ok maybe everyone in the fandom has already read both of these and i’m an absolute idiot who’s just discovering them but my words genuinely cannot describe how close im holding these to my tua hyperfixated heart rn. i need help thanks

also for some reason ao3 has repeatedly shut down for maintenance over the course of this week leaving me with so much excitement and suspicion over what would happen next so thank you to ao3 for being the worst this week but it’s ok we made it through!!!!1!!1!!!1!!!!

#genuinely so in awe at how someone can write THAT well #i’m so attached #what the hell do i do with myself now #like i genuinely have never been more interested in reading #i’ve always wanted to be better about reading more but it takes a seriously interesting plot (or character #in five’s case) for me to be interested enough to spend all of my free time reading #like it’s actually insane how invested i’ve been in this fic #i immediately need more. leave more long ass five-centric fics in the recs for me PLEEEEEASE i need more #laur rambles #the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #five hargreeves #hargreeves siblings #number five #tua five #tua number five #number five hargreeves #laur says stuff

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wraithlafitte · 11 months ago

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heating pad - sam winchester

Summary: Sam takes care of you when you get your period for the first time in a long time.

CONTENT: talk of periods, feminine products, infertility. fluff! romantic tension!sam. sam is a sweet guy who does what you need without being embarrassed or you needing to ask.

Word count: 1k (est. reading time 7 mins.)

A/N: my first posted fic!

You get up from the rickety motel bed stiffly, cracking your back. You had been hunched over doing research on your laptop for hours, and it was time to take a break.

Sam looks up at you from the chair in the corner of the room, mouth quirked up in a smile. "You ok?"

"Yeah," you groan, massaging your lower back. "Still stiff from sleeping on the ground last week, I guess."

You feel a ghost pang of pain in your stomach and your hands move to the front to hold it. The pain feels oddly familiar....

"Fuck." You quickly walk into the bathroom and shut the door, plopping down on the toilet to check.

The red on the toilet paper confirms it. Your period has started. But how? You haven't gotten your period in years, and your doctor told you that you were sterile. He couldn't explain why, but you recalled a certain monster-fighting incident that had involved several deep blows to your abdomen.

"Hey, Y/N?" Sam calls through the door. "You ok in there?"

You redress yourself and yank open the door, looking royally pissed. Sam draws back a little but still looks concerned.

"My period started," you tell him grumpily. "And I don't have anything."

"Anything like wh- oh." Without hesitating, he says "Sit tight, okay? I'll go see if the motel's store has anything."

"Thanks," you groan, making your way back to the bed.

Within minutes, Sam returns with a small box of pads. "This is all they had," he says, tossing it to you.

You take them and go back to the bathroom to take care of it, emerging slightly less stressed-looking than before.

Sam rummages through one of his bags.

"What are you looking for?" you ask.

"This," he replies, triumphantly holding up a heating pad. "I keep it to help my back when it's sore from a fight. Thought you might need it."

You make your way to your own bag, pulling out your bottle of ibuprofen and tossing a couple in your mouth. "Yeah, thanks. I forgot how much period cramps hurt." You grimace, illustrating your point.

Sam beckons you to your bed, fluffing the pillows and plugging in the heating pad. You flop into the nest gratefully, allowing him to place the heating pad on your stomach.

"What do you mean, you forgot?" He looks at you quizzically. "Don't you get reminded every month?" He has a twinkle in his eye and you know he's teasing, but you frown, reminded of your own questions.

"That's the weird part, Sam." You cringe with another pang and sigh, leaning against the crappy headboard. "I haven't had my period for maybe five years minimum. I'm supposedly sterile."

"Huh," he says, joining you in your frown. "Hold on." A thought seems to occur to him and he gets up, returning to the chair where he had been reading. He picks up the book he had been reading and flips a few pages back, furrowing his brow as he scans the page.

"Aha! Knew it." Sam rushes back to your side, eager to share his findings. He sits beside you on the bed and holds out the book, which is open to a page about a familiar-looking flower.

"Remember that flower we found in the cave?" he asks, referencing your last hunt, which had taken you up a mountain in search of a creature that had been spotted by campers. You remember how it destroyed your tents and forced you to take shelter in a small cave.

"Yeah," you say slowly. "The one you said not to touch because it makes you aroused. The one witches use in love spells."

"Right," he says excitedly. "Well, I was reading about it because I was trying to see if that was its natural habitat, and I found something else. Apparently this flower doesn't just make you horny, its spores also increase fertility like, dramatically."

You squint at the place he's pointing at in the book. "So, theoretically, if it was mating season for these plants, and their spores were in the air, and I came into contact with them—"

"Inhaled them," Sam corrects. You crinkle your nose at the thought.

"Whatever. It can revive my ovaries?" you ask incredulously.

"Well, there's no actual evidence of this happening, at least not in the books I read. But I do know that witches use it in fertility spells as well." He snaps the book closed. "Mystery solved if you ask me."

You sigh dramatically, closing your eyes. "Just my luck." You stretch forward, groaning. "God, I'm stiff," you complain. "And my back aches from these stupid cramps."

"Here." Sam taps your back, prompting you to scoot forward a little. He moves to sit behind you, legs on either side of your hips, and begins gently massaging your lower back. "Feel okay?" he checks.

"Yes," you reply, groaning from the ache. "Thanks." You lean into him a little, relishing the feeling of his strong hands gently working out the knots in your back. He makes his way up and down, giving care and attention to all your sore muscles. When he reaches your neck, you wince and scrunch up.

"That tickles," you say, giggling involuntarily.

Sam laughs a little. "Sorry." His hands drop down to your waist, encircling you in a hug. He rests his chin on your shoulder. "Feel a little better?"

"Yeah, thanks." You smile contentedly.

Sam leans back against the pillows, taking you with him. His hand lands on your stomach, weighing down the heating pad so the heat permeates your skin more. The feeling of his warmth at your back also eases your pain a little bit. You settle into him comfortably and lay your hand over his, lacing your fingers between his.

You feel him smile into your hair.

"I'm sorry you're not feeling well, Y/N," he says, real sympathy in his voice. "Not fun to be sick on a hunt."

You turn your head to look up at him. His warm hazel eyes gaze down at you, and you swear you see a dash of affection in them.

"I think I'll be okay."

divider by @saradika

#supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #supernatural x reader #reader insert #sam winchester fanfiction #spn fluff #userwraith

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ofmdrecaps · 4 months ago

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07/31/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Con O'Neill; Kristian Nairn: WJW; Ruibo Qian; Madeleine Sami; Guz Khan; TellTaleTV Voting Results; OFMD Dress Month; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika;

Hey crew, I'm several days behind so I'm gonna do things a bit different this time around-- I'm gonna split the last day of July up from Aug 1, and 2. Sorry I'm so delayed, been a lot going on at work and home. Hope everyone is staying healthy and safe out there.

== David Jenkins ==

Chaos Dad, David Jenkins seems to be keeping the OFMD memes shared! It's so nice to see him sharing so much art and fun in the fandom <3 This time around the art was from the incredibly talented @lumintsu!

Source: David's Twitter

== Rhys Darby ==

Reminder! Cryptid Factor is coming to London Aug 9th! Also what a sweet shot of Rhys on the plane over the ocean <3

Source: Rhys Darby's Instagram Stories

== Taika Waititi ==

More BTS Stills from Joblo's Article/Interview about Time Bandits!

Some sneaky pool Taika!

Source: VasJMorgan's Instagram Stories

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A post shared by Etalk (@etalkctv)

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Source: etalkctv Instagram

== Con O'Neill ==

New episode of Time Bandits is out and Con is on episode 3! Including some gifs below by @laceratedlamiaceae and @gydima to see some of the fun stuff he was up to!

== Kristian Nairn: WJW ==

July 31 was Wee John Wednesday! Where Kristian did a whole video on all the lovely gifts he's received over the years from fans! There are some absolutely adorable things in there! Apologies, normally I try to transcribe highlights, but I'm still catching up on all the things after this crazy work week, so here's some highlights from our friends over at @adoptourcrew!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

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A post shared by Kristian Nairn (@kristiannairn)

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Source: Kristian Nairn's Instagram

== Ruibo Qian ==

Ruibo's getting ready for the opening night of Ms. Holmes & Ms. Watson! Unfortunately it looks like she got quite a bit of a bruise in prep!

Source: Ruibo's Instagram

== Madeleine Sami ==

Our dear Mads was out on @7daysnz a comedy news show in AoNZ!

Source: 7daysnz Instagram

== Guz Khan ==

Guz is out on U & Dave in the "Battle in the Box!"

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A post shared by U&Dave (@uanddave_)

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Source: GuzKhan's Instagram

== Tell Tale TV Votes ==

Hey folks! Your hard work payed off! We managed to win the poll for most heartbreaking cancellation (as rough as that is). Sending so many hugs to the fans for Station 19, it's obvious yall have been missing the hell out of your show too. Here's hoping we'll both get to see our shows for another season!

Source: Tell Tale TV Twitter

== OFMD Dress Week ==

Another theme week is coming up September 9th-15th, this time hosted by our friend @libroseitm! You can follow OFMD Dress week on Twitter!

Source: OFMD Dress Week Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

More cast cards tonight from our resident cast expert-- @melvisik! First up is Jon A., and Dwayne G. These two are more of our magnificent action talents (according to ofmd-crew.com!) After them-- is Karla Spika, another one of our Casting Directors (NZ department)!

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

= OFMD Colouring Pages =

The fabulous @patchworkpiratebear is putting out some more great colouring pages-- this time illustrating one of @denizbevan's fics! There are lots of versions available, so please visit their tumblr for more!

Source: Patchwork Pirate Bear's Tumblr

== Love Notes ==

Okay lovelies, I had so much I wanted to say, but I am so behind as it is, so I'm gonna do another couple days of other folks love notes. Sending love and hug vibes your way.

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A post shared by Lauren Eliz Love | Your Self Healing Teacher (@laurenoflove)

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A post shared by Myndset Mastery™ (@myndsetmastery)

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Source: LiveFreeLauraD Instagram

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Just these two doing some crazy stuff! Gifs courtesy of our fellow Rhys and Taika enthusiasts --@celluloidbroomcloset and @soundsofmyuniverse!

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mariinawrites · 2 years ago

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Risky Meeting - Captain John Price

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, somewhat rough sex, neck kisses, dom John Price

Recommended songs to listen while reading: Talking Body by Tove Lo, Killshot by Magdalena Bay, Skin by Rihanna and Secrets by Magdalena Bay

Word Count: 4,000~ (approximately)

A/N: My first smut fic for my COD obsession!, Minors do not interact!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

You yawn lazily as you grab another can of soda from the mini table crowded with a bunch of snacks you and your best friend were munching on. Your eyes were glued to the television illustrating the daily news, not that it was of any interest to you. Your best friend suddenly breaks the silence, and you turn towards her.

“This is getting boring.” she said as she dug into another slice of pizza while leaning back into the couch. You smiled.

She has always been your pillar, your partner in crime, your ride or die. Ever since your junior year in college, she was your roommate. And ever since then, she has always been there for you. And you appreciated her tenfold day after day.

“Well, we can switch the channel if it’s bothering you.” You said with a small smirk as you reached for the remote from the table. She nodded mouth-full of pizza as her eyes lit up when a dramatic horror movie scene came on in one of the channels you were passing through. A few moments later, she swallowed her last bite of the pizza crust leaving crumbs all over her shirt as she stood up.

“Okay listen.” She said as she paused the movie and stood in front of the television causing you to be intrigued by what she’ll say but also confused.

“When was the absolute last time you got laid?” She asked jokingly as you scoff and shove your face with pretzels from the snack bowl. You couldn’t help but reminisce about the last time you did get laid, which was back in your last year of college. You were now working at some shitty job at a cafe and looking back at that day, it was as if it never happened.

It felt like something meaningless, something that was just a fling. Which wasn’t something you liked, you wanted it to be special, but in the end, you didn’t care, you knew your worth and when the right person comes in line, you know exactly what to do. You were snapped out of your thoughts when your best friend had her eureka moment.

“I have just the idea!” she exclaimed as she wiped leftover pizza grease from her fingers on her shirt and hurriedly grabbed her laptop and set to finding what she’s going to show you. Moments later, she turned the screen to you and smirked.

“This is…a sugar daddy dating site!” She said feeling proud of herself. You looked at her shocked and shut her up before anything else. You shook your head.

“No fucking way am I putting myself on there!” You said in denial as she giggled and quickly set out to make you a profile on the site. You scoffed and tried to rip the laptop out of her hands but she was too quick. She stood up away from your grasp and shushed you with her hand.

“Now, the reason I’m being the best friend I am by making this for you, is for two reasons. Number one, you’re 30 and you're working a shitty barista job and barely get 25 hours a week, talk about B-O-R-I-N-G-” she dramatically said.

“And second, you haven’t gotten laid since the dawn of time!...I bet dinosaurs had more action than you.” she said as she laughed at her own joke leaving you playfully throwing pieces of broken pretzels at her.

“Hey, that’s not true! I just don’t seem to have the time, thank you very much” You said retaliating but also sugarcoating it. You both knew you had loads of time off, she sighed and sat next to you on the couch and wrapped her arms around you softly.

“Listen, in no way am I trying to make you feel like a sack of trash but I think you should give this site a try, how about this-” she said as she tried to paint a picture about this for you.

“You have this profile with a few pictures of you that are absolutely gorgeous and a caption saying ‘Looking for a daddy to spoil me’ or something, and then you get flooded with requests, you choose one and go on with it…besides you could use the cash plus…free dick.” she shrugged and she looked at you.

You grimaced at the thought of that cringey caption for your profile.

What could go wrong you thought, it’s extra cash to help while you still work at your local cafe. Your best friend is unfortunately right, it wouldn't hurt to get laid, especially with an older-ish man who’s more experienced plus the good that comes with it, you’ll get the daily allowances which will help you a lot not that you're desperate.

You were ruling out the pros and cons of this and eventually, the pros took the majority. So you gave it another good thought and gently nodded, accepting this new thing your best friend set up for you, causing her to squeal in excitement.

[Next Day - Friday - 10:30 am]

You groggily wake up to the sound of your daily set alarm and you slowly get up and realize you and your best friend crashed to sleep on the couch last night. She was sleeping and snoring with the empty pizza box using it as a makeshift blanket on the other side. You yawn as you throw away the trash from the couch and table, and make breakfast. The smell of eggs woke your best friend and the first thing she did with half-lidded eyes was get up groggily and open the laptop to the sugar-dating site from last night.

Her eyes widened and smiled excitedly. “Uh dude, come here.”

You turned around, mouth full of toast and walked to see what the big fuss was about. And her excitement was proven, there were 14 chat requests straight into your inbox. Your eyes widened, you pushed her over as you sat next to her to skim through them, they were all verified and some were not that bad looking, handsome even. You planted yourself into the couch and analyzed each request, hovering back onto a specific one many times. Your best friend nudges you playfully.

“What did I tell you!!!” she said awaiting your answer. You smiled gently and sighed.

“Yeah yeah whatever” you said as you pressed one of the profiles that requested to chat with you, taking interest in him already. Your best friend noticed how focused you were on his profile. She read aloud.

—

John Price, 37, Male, 6’2

‘What is a pretty lady like you doing here?

—

Your best friend gasped and she shook your shoulder excitedly, your heart skipped a beat and you quickly accepted the request considering how handsome he was, he looked ethereal yet dangerous..in a good way.

—

Well Mr. Price, why do you think I am here?

—

You looked at your best friend and smiled at her, a faint blush kissing your cheeks. He started typing, causing a rush of adrenaline to run through you even though only 2 sentences were sent between you both. He was good looking, so handsome you had to take a double take at his pictures, there were a couple posted, some with him in a tux at what seemed like a fancy party, while some others of him smoking cigars at some random pier. He sure was eye-candy to you.

—

I guess you're looking for a sugar daddy huh ;)

—

Your best friend squealed as you gently nibbled on your lower lip in excitement and responded back.

—

I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea Mr. Price

—

He replied.

—

Then I would like to offer to be your sugar daddy hm? Are we okay with this agreement? With daily allowances of 400 dollars as a start and it is ultimately your choice if you would like to give back any sugar pretty lady.

—

You looked at your best friend in anticipation and she patted your back reassuringly. This sure was new for you but at the same time, it was something you grew to want to do.

—

How generous Mr. Price, I would love to return the favor, so I’ll be your sugar baby;)

—

He liked your message and offered to meet with you the same night at a lovely restaurant to which you were not going to say no of course. Something about John made you feel something that you haven’t felt in a very long time, so what shame is there for having a sugar daddy when he is as attractive as John and with pockets so heavy. You were feeling bold and you loved every second of it, without feeling pressured or anything, you decided to embark on this new experience with your best friend alongside you to offer support.

[Next Day - Saturday - 6:00 pm]

You were outside the restaurant, the one that John had sent you the address to and you were wearing a lovely thigh length black satin dress that hugged you natural body beautifully accentuating all your prettiest facial features. You felt confident and you told yourself sweet affirmations that this little date was going to end up amazingly and that you had nothing to stress about, despite you have not been on a date in forever which kind of freaked you out.

You were about to start worrying that you would eventually get stood up which irked you and caused you to overthink for a good 10 minutes when suddenly you get a phone call from John.

As you saw his name on the screen of your phone, you were hesitant to answer only thinking what he sounded like, just the thought of it was having your stomach in mini knots. You purse your lips gently and clear your throat before answering.

“Hello?” You say thanking yourself for no voice cracks whatsoever. There was a very short silence but it felt like forever.

“Hello sweetheart..I am outside in the restaurant parking lot and I think I see you, wave your hand up for me darling.” he said.

You were shocked at how smooth and succulent his rough deep voice sounded, causing you to lean against the wall slightly, and reach your arm to gently wave towards the parking lot to catch his attention wherever he was, feeling your legs unconsciously clench together slightly.

As you see him coming towards you, you hang up and smile as you slowly walk towards him, hoping you wouldn’t trip in the heels you were wearing.

He looked amazing, he was wearing a white button up tucked into his dress pants that was rather tight accentuating his muscles, and he smelled of sweet musk, that gave a warm and subtle but woodsy scent to your nose. You couldn't help but ogle at him in more places than one shamelessly. He was tall and he towered over you, clearly claiming dominance.

“Finally.” He said with a small sigh and slight grin as he cupped your cheek lovingly as he checked you out.

“You are breathtakingly beautiful.” He complimented as you felt a small blush reach your cheeks causing you to smile and thank him.

“Not as handsome as you, John.” He chuckled deeply at your compliment and reached for the door behind you and opened it for you, motioning you to enter first.

Moments later, as you both dig into your food and share sweet conversations about many topics getting to touch base with each other more, including the topic of the new ‘relationship’ you two seemed to have. You couldn’t help but feel a short rush of heat go through your legs as you paid such grand attention to him as he spoke, staring at his luscious lips.

“Sweetheart?” He asked.

You suddenly come back into focus from your clouded naughty thoughts and straighten your spine.

“Sorry, I am just very intrigued by what you’re saying” You say with a little smile. He smiled as he noticed you were ogling at him and he loved every bit of it, he loved the attention he was getting from you, and he loved how flustered you looked.

Later, as he paid the bill and left the restaurant with you, he offered to take you home and you agreed. As you both reached his car, it was an expensive car that seemed like it had a spacious back area, and it was in a rich color of black that matched John perfectly.

You were going for the passenger seat, but before you could, he took you by the arm softly and trapped you under him, having you rest your body on his driver’s side of the car door. You felt a rush of adrenaline knowing exactly where this was going and you were thankful that there was close to nobody near where his car was parked.

As you both stare into each other’s eyes completely forgetting everything and everyone around you, focusing on John and such power he has over you in this moment, you were not complaining, you craved more of it. Did it seem too quick? No, you needed this man and you needed him now.

As a smooth breathtaking hum is released from his soft lips, you felt a sudden but warm touch of his calloused hand gliding up to push some of your hair away revealing the crook of your soft neck as he leans down and places butterfly kisses from you bare shoulder to behind your ear, finishing with a small nibble or your ear.

This caused you to clench your legs together for the 10th time and bring him closer to you by pulling him in slowly by his belt buckle, while you leaned your head to the side giving John more access to explore your bare neck area. You hummed in satisfaction causing John to use his free hand to grip your hip tightly and looked at you.

“Do you want this to continue sweetheart?” he asked, already knowing your answer as he looked at you with half lidded eyes covered in lust for you.

You craved every inch of this man and you nodded in absolute consent for him to have you in any way he pleases. All you needed was John to rock your world, and he wouldn’t let you go without showing you just how beautiful you are.

John leaned in closer to you until both foreheads meet, brushing his gentle and luscious lips across yours slowly, leaving you beginning to feel hot and bothered. John excited you and you knew that it was time to indulge in this. You brought your hands up to grip John’s hair gently and he leaned in to kiss you.

You were kissing him with such burning passion, feeling his well kept mustache against your lips, adding some friction. You couldn’t help but kiss him deeper, feeling those sweet, yet intoxicating lips. His tongue slips into your mouth gently, exploring slowly yet demanding. You felt warm in his embrace.

He’s a natural at this You thought.

He starts to gently caress your thigh while his other hand is pulling you by the neck deeper into his kiss. He lifts your leg to rest gently on his side. His dominating touch felt sweet and passionate, as he pushed his groin into your parted legs. He pulls away from the kiss, having a thin but sweet string of saliva connecting you both as he looks at you with hunger.

“You’re precious, angel.” He cooed as he laid small butterfly kisses from your cheek to your clothed chest causing you to feel trembled yet needy.

You completely dissolve into his embrace, as he pulls you closer into him by pulling your ass firmly. All you could feel was the aching yet anticipated want for him at the pit of your stomach. It felt tight but you loved the feeling. It was exhilarating, it just pumped through your entire body and left you feeling numb. The feeling of his toned body against yours, the earthy and warm smell of this natural scent flooding your mind.

You needed him over you, under you, completely inside you. Your back arches slightly as he comes back up to kiss your neck with small open-mouthed kisses leaving little hickies dispersed around in a little group. He gently bit onto your soft collarbone area, gifting him a small moan from you.

“Why don’t we continue this in the back seat yeah?” He asked with his hungry brown eyes piercing into yours. You nodded feverishly, giving him the okay as he opened the back door, and lifted you to place you gently in the backseat as he closed the two seats down for more room. You wanted this man like no other, you needed that orgasm.

And the rest was history.

He was towered over you, a now visible silver chain necklace around his neck dangling over you, You looked at him wanting to just rip him of his clothes and devour him, but that was rather not his plan just yet. He licks his lips softly as you feel him looking at you very carnivorously.

His lips met yours once again and his hands were trailing up and down your deliciously natural body causing you to moan gently into his mouth earning small groans from him. His hands snake quickly around your back to unzip your dress and pull it down, revealing your luscious breasts that were hugged by a beautiful lace bra of your favorite color with matching underwear.

He leans lower leaving kissing down from your chest to your belly button and removes your heels skillfully giving you more comfort. He trailed more kisses up your thighs to your pelvis whispering sweet words into your plush skin. He reaches up to unclasp your bra, relieving your pretty tits so he can just ogle at them lovingly.

“You’re so fucking pretty y’know that?” He coos, causing you to smile gently, feeling fuzzy inside. He latches his sweet lips onto one of your breasts as the other is fiddled with by his rough calloused hand, causing you to arch your back into him wanting more.

Hickies and love bites were scattered all over your upper body as he licks each one admiring them. He was proud of himself like a painter finishing a painting. His thumb hooks onto your panties and with one movement they were off, the warm air of the car hitting your bare cunt.

He stares at it hungrily causing you to clench your legs together, but before he can indulge, you want his clothes off. He was quicker than you and started removing his dress shirt slowly teasing you, button by button. He was later left in his boxers.

This was your chance to see his precious package. You reached your hand to the hem of his underwear to remove, releasing his throbbing cock, eyes widening at his size. He was rather on the longer but girthier side with a pretty pink tip as well as well trimmed. You were wondering if it would fit.

You took your hand and gently wrapped your hand around his cock but he stopped you, and kissed your hand instead.

“Now, as much as I absolutely want your pretty soft lips wrapped around my cock, I simply won’t allow myself pleasure before you princess.” He said leaving you a little dumbfounded but you smiled softly at his gentleman actions.

He pushes you down and with one swift move his hand meets your throbbing clit, as he starts lovingly attacking your neck with open mouthed kisses again while circling your sensitive bud. You shiver slightly at the rough but gentle contact.

“John-” You say breathlessly feeling pure bliss and ecstasy as he chuckles deeply before going down to meet your aching cunt.

“Do you still want this, gorgeous?” He teased knowing exactly that you would rather die than not have him fuck the hell out of you.

You laughed gently. “Of course I do.”

His hot breath hits your sensitive area, and he smirks at you and with that, his lips latched onto your sweet aching clit, burying his mouth and nose into your delicious folds. He could one hundred percent feel your wetness soaking his sweet lips and his mustache, but that only made him want more as he tightened his grip around your legs so you don’t move an inch.

His tongue danced flawlessly around your clit, sucking it to its fullest potential, responding to your beautiful moans with kisses to your inner thigh at the same time. You felt on top of the world, you catched up to him and lifted your pelvis into the entirety of his mouth some more, using his skillful tongue to your utmost full desire.

Flicking his tongue causing your nipples to perk up gently, he inserted two fingers gently into your wet and slick center. You covered your mouth from releasing such loud pleasurable moans. You felt his fingers curl in and out as his tongue lovingly attacked your swollen clit once again. Sweet and breathy moans escaping his muffled lips.

Moments after.

“John I think-” You pitifully said.

He looked up and you smiled. “Let it out, beautiful.”

And with that, a warm and succulent blast of your juices soaked his handsome face from his mustache to his wet fingers, licking them off proudly. You lay there sprawled, seeing imaginary stars as you let out a breathy laugh.

“You’re all tuckered out and we’re not even finished.” He said, smiling gently.

You pull him down for a short kiss, as you taste yourself on his lips.

“Then by all means…finish the job.” You seductively said, connecting your lips with his once again. Time seemed to stop as he continued to lay kisses down from your neck to your perked and soft nipples, causing you to release sweet hums of satisfaction. He reaches for his back pocket with an already prepared condom and pulls it out swiftly from the package, wrapping it on his throbbing cock.

You breathe in gently as he leans in and whispers in your ear.

“You ready, darling?” He asks.

You nod feverishly, as you pull him for a kiss leaving a few on his neck. He started teasing you as he rubbed his length at your slick entrance leaving you hot and bothered. His sweet compliments and affirmations made your brain all fuzzy and had you in a deep trance. You finally feel him drop into you, causing you to let out a loud pleasurable shriek.

His hard cock filled you to the absolute brim and your head threw itself back as your back arched into him as he nipped gently at your nipples. He hisses gently, manly and rough moans escaping his mouth as he holds your hips, thrusting in and out of your wet and soft cunt.

You pulled him into you and met for another passionate kiss as he kept on thrusting into you, each thrust harder and deeper than the last. His tongue danced with yours as you felt yourself close to release, once again. The car windows were absolutely fogged up as your heart raced feeling him twitch inside you many times.

This is what I have been missing out on. You thought.

The ripping feeling of your core connected to his and the beautifully pleasurable feeling of having the most amazing orgasms because of him made your body and mind feel accomplished.

Riding down on your second orgasm as both of you cum in unison, John pulls out slowly as he lazily ties the now used condom, and tosses it away in the packet to discard later. He leans a little up to place gentle kisses on your tummy all the way up to your lips once again, pulling at your bottom lip causing you to hum and smile gently.

“Wow.” You said breathlessly, making John feel proud and triumphant as he chuckled deeply.

“You did a good job baby.” He cooed as he helped you clean up, kissing your forehead.

[Same Night - Saturday - 11:30 pm]

John pulls up to your place into the driveway after having a little trouble finding it even with the help of a GPS. You turn to him one last time and give him a passionate kiss on his soft lips and smiled gently at him.

He kissed your hand, as you reached for the car door to leave, completely forgetting the last ultimate thing, but he reminded you by taking your hand before you left and handed you an envelope that felt heavy to the touch.

As you opened it, it was roughly around 300 dollars. You smirked at him as a small blush rose to your flushed out cheeks.

“Don’t worry, I’d never forget princess, same time next week?” He offered as he smiled gently at you.

You laughed gently and nodded. “You bet.”

You got out of the car and walked to your place waving back at him and closing the door behind you letting out a relaxed sigh.

I could really get used to this.

You thought as you started counting the money in the envelope smiling to yourself.

#cod smut #captain john price #cod fanfic #call of duty headcanons #call of duty #john price #simon riley #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod mwii

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anasunsgallery · 3 months ago

Text

A scene from one of my current favourite fics - An Idiot’s Guide to Wooing Your Husband by toxic_angel on AO3. The foot is a bit weird, but hey, at least I didn’t just give up :] Also, this is my first fully finished illustration that didn’t get scrapped halfway through, so it’s a win for me

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #fanfic #fanart #harry x draco

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petite-madame · 10 months ago

Note

Hey queen! Love your art and have been a fan for a while now.

Just a question out of curiosity: do you do art pieces/“fanarts” for fanfictions? Like, not under commissions because I see you don’t have them open atm, but for bangs or other things. And beside bangs etc, under what circumstances do you draw for fics? I’m just curious because I’ve fallen in love with your art in the life of Bucky Barnes, but I’m not really informed on whether you write your fics and draw for them too or not, or if people base their fics on your art and you just partner up with them.

Your art is kind of like my jam at the moment and I’m looking for as many stories with your art as possible.

Thanks if you’ll answer!

Hi anon ^^

Thank you so much for enjoying my art and for taking the time to contact me, it's very kind of you. 💗

Do you do art pieces/“fanarts” for fanfictions?

Oh yes, I did, tons of them! I used to collaborate A LOT between 2009 and 2015 but then :

I started The Life of Bucky Barnes in 2014, so less time for bangs, as The LoBB was extremely time-consuming

I had big health problem between 2014-2019 so less energy to do bangs (I was afraid to let authors down and not being ready for the deadline so I stopped signing up)

Everything was happening on Live Journal, I found it easy and convenient but when things started to move to Tumblr and that the sign ups + "fic grabbing" system changed (like Google drive forms and whatnot), my old ass dropped bangs entirely. My age is showing. 🤓

Anyway! If you are interested in all the collaborations I did, you'll find everything you need in THIS POST (fics + illustrations). You'll also find a download link to a big PDF with all the illustrations I did for fics from 2010 to 2017 (well, not all of them to be honest because I used to have a NSFW Live Journal account that I also used for bangs but I closed it eventually, same for my NSFW Tumblr account after the great debacle of 2017)

It's a bit different but I can also link you to THIS POST that gathers all the fics inspired by my art (I'm so grateful, you have no idea 🥳)

Under what circumstances do you draw for fics?

Two circonstances:

I sign up for a bang (because I love the ship or the theme of the bang), I see a summary that I like, I grab it and then I illustrate the fic. It can also be the other way around when it's for Reverse Bang for instance: I draw an artwork and an author grabs my art.

I collaborate with friends, fic authors that I met after years in the same fandom even if I must admit I haven't done it in ages.

I hope I answered your questions! Thanks again and have a great week🥰

#pmasks

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oddberryshortcake · 1 year ago

Note

can you write something with the Megara oc?

You're in luck! My Megara inspired Yuu actually has lots of lore!

Here's an illustration of her dynamic with Idia Shroud provided by the lovely @cozymochi

My fic is under read more, but you can also read it on AO3!

“Why do you want me to talk to this boy so badly?” Katerina asked, reclining on her dormitory couch, long ponytail hanging off the end.

Idia sat awkwardly at the seat across from her, all scrunched up yet still finding room to be baffled at her inquiry.

“Look at me!” He gestured to himself as if it was obvious.

When all he got was a raised eyebrow, he reiterated, “I’m not great with face-to-face confrontations. Last I talked to him, he threatened me with a baton. But, Kat, you have to see him. He’s an entirely different person once you get past the ‘scary guard’ thing.”

“You sure he’s not trying to lull you into a false sense of security so he can whack you with his baton?” Katerina teased sarcastically.

“No, but don’t put that in the universe!” Idia retorted, “I’m not asking for anything complicated. Just scope him out! Maybe you can get an online game account out of him; he says his dad plays.”

“Send your brother to do it.”

“Ortho is a good boy! And I don’t want to set him up for what is basically super personal info-gathering. It’d be too obvious if it was him anyway.” Idia snapped.

Ortho was much more of the mischievous prying type than Idia seemed aware of, or at least wanted to acknowledge. Still, seeing him this perturbed over some boy she’s never heard of before must mean something.

“I hooked you up with all of the lasted Twisted Wonderland consoles, visual novels, and anime. You owe me two grand in favors.” Idia got strangely threatening, pointing an accusatory finger in her direction.

“Hey, you chose to do that!” Katerina snapped back at him, rising up from her lounging position. “You were begging me to check all those things out!”

“Doesn’t matter; you’ll change your mind when you see him. “He’s easy to find. Usually somewhere on campus, silver hair, beautiful eyes,” Idia replied. “I’ll throw in whatever extra perks you want. You want Pay-Per-Routes? You got it.”

“You just threatened me with that. Look, fine, I’ll meet this guy, but don’t expect the conversation to be very long.” Kat gave in, heaving herself up and throwing on her jacket from the side.

“You’re a smooth-talker, much more endearing than I can manage. You’ll do fine.” Idia told her.

“By the way, I probably wouldn’t stay in that seat too long. As soon as Grim wakes up and sees you in his spot, he won’t shut up about it.” Kat warned, or rather teased, with a flip of her hair.

It didn’t do much. Idia loved Grim just for being a cat, so chances were he would stick around until she finished her task.

She wasn’t sure exactly how easy this person was to find. His description sounded more like lovestruck rambling than anything actually concrete.

A quick walk across campus to the hall of mirrors was terrible when she was alone because when she didn’t have her friend at either side of her, people stared.

Granted, they always stared, but they did so more noticeably when she was alone.

They would turn their heads to look at her each time. They’d whip around and gawk in place. She was the only girl on campus, and they were both in awe and shocked by her being there, and she hated all of it.

If this person hadn’t heard of her sudden arrival to this school, then they’d be just as surprised. She’d have to do the whole song and dance all over again. He would dumbly declare her as a girl, then be bothered by her mere presence or try to ask her out.

A soft vocalization caught her ears, followed by the most tender lyrics.

‘No way,’ Kat thought, ‘there’s no way that’s the guy.’

She followed the voice out of curiosity, and if she saw any of the vague physical description given to her, she would never question Idia’s weirdness ever again…Or rather, she wouldn’t question it too harshly.

“I wonder, I wonder…I wonder why each little bird has a someone~”

A boy with strikingly silver hair stretched his arms and legs with ease, seemingly going through some workout routine while singing gently.

Perching on the tips of his fingers were small little blue birds. They twittered along with his melodic humming. It was unbelievable; she was literally at a loss for words.

“To sing to, sweet things to…A gay little love melody~” he continued, bringing the hand with the birds closer to his face.

Almost comedically, Kat stepped forward and conveniently broke a twig under her boot. A loud snap interrupted the boy’s song, and he quickly drew a baton out from under him and pointed it in her direction.

She threw her hands up to show that she meant no harm, and the boy dropped his defenses immediately.

“Oh, hello, I’m sorry about that. You startled me.” The boy apologized.

“No problem. What, uh, what are you doing?” She asked, stepping closer.

“I was about to train. I was doing some stretches first.” He explained

“While singing to a bunch of birds?” She questioned bluntly, hands on her hips.

The boy fell silent and looked blankly back at her. Apparently he was in thought because he gave her a half-hearted answer when he spoke up again. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“You suppose so…” she repeated.

‘Is this wonderboy for real?’ She thought to herself, ‘this has to be an act. No guy, especially at this school, sings to animals like he’s some kind of fairytale princess.’

“You wouldn’t happen to be named Silver, would you?”

“That is my name!” Silver exclaimed with innocent surprise, “What’s yours?”

“Katerina Vallis. My friends call me Kat, though.” She held her hand out to shake.

Silver looked at it like he didn’t know what she was doing, so she met him halfway and grabbed his hand in a tight shake.

“Would you prefer if I call you Kat, then?” He asked permission.

His entire demeanor endlessly confused her, and she fought hard against herself to find it endearing.

“Sure, wonderboy, knock yourself out.”

The birds that fled when she surprised him flew back, handing on his shoulders and head. “I don’t believe I’ve met you before until now…Or,” Silver narrowed his eyes at her as if inspecting her all over, Katerina crossed her arms, “Have I?”

“We’ve never met,” Katerina explained, it seemed obvious, but somehow this was the strangest boy she’s come across so far. “A little bird told me about you.”

Silver looked inquisitively at his bird friends. He brought a hand out and the birds obediently landed on his wrist and fingers. “Have you, now?”

“Not a literal bird- Ah, whatever,” Katerina replied, “Do you play video games…Or something?”

“I do; I’m not very good at them though,” Silver answered. It was extremely easy, no strings attached.

Silver didn’t seem to notice that Kat was very clearly an outsider at this school. Kat was beginning to think that he couldn’t even tell she was a ‘she.’ But it was a nice change of pace to talk without having to deal with the usual reactions and questions.

“Mind exchanging account info? For the little bird?” She asked.

“Of course, though, I don’t know if a bird would be very good at playing video games either.” Silver agreed, still misguided, but he had the spirit. “I only really play games with my father, and even then, I usually fall asleep before I can finish. Do you play games?”

“Yeah, I dabble,” Kat said.

She lied. She was knee-deep in inter-dimensional visual novels that she’s never seen before until getting trapped here. Without her parents there to chide her for not focusing more on sports and photoshoots, she could indulge in all of her fantasies. She could become the girl who has friends and falls in love in all of these games Idia supplied her with.

Those fantasies came with a cost. Now she had to act as a gopher.

“If only I had a pen and paper…” Silver mused.

“You can just tell me, and I’ll type it on my phone.” She offered.

Suddenly, a little rabbit and squirrel hopped up to them, one holding a pen and one holding a paper. How the hell those animals even got those items that fast and how they knew exactly what Silver wanted? Katerina didn’t know. She had a hard time believing what she was seeing.

“Thank you,” Silver patted their little heads and took their items.

He wrote down his online name and handed it to her. He wrote in very neat cursive, “here you are.”

He had a very creative name…Silver515.

“Thanks…” she said, and that was that, “I’ll see you around.”

Silver yawned and covered his mouth with his hand before giving her a friendly goodbye. He pulled his baton back up and swung it around with clear precision. It reminded her of her fencing practice, where she would fight some invisible enemy with all of her might.

She lingered there, silently wondering why she hadn’t left. Then, she spoke up.

“Do you have a second baton?” She asked.

“Oh, yes, actually. Sebek was here with me earlier, but he left to chase after our liege. Guard duties and all.” Silver explained, pulling out his spare baton hidden underneath a group of spectating animals.

He handed it to her, and she took it. She expected him to toss it, but it was a gentle handoff.

“But not you?” Katerina questioned.

“Malleus enjoys taking walks alone. I prefer to leave him be if he wants it.” Silver responded as a matter of fact.

“That’s very considerate.” Katerina complemented before getting into position.

The baton was shorter and stockier than the fencing sword she used, but he held it with as much grace as possible and prepared Silver for her first move, “En-garde!”

Silver copied her motion as if he too had been fencing his whole life, and the two tried to jab each other’s chest.

They had to get closer to each other to nail the hit.

Katerina got an up-close look at Silver’s unique eyes. Idia was not kidding when he described them as beautiful. They were a mix of blue, purple, and pink, all swirled together like a sunrise. It was enough to distract her and leave her open, Silver jabbed the baton into her, and she staggered backward.

It was a momentary stumble, however, as she leaped back up and returned the jab. By the rule of fencing, there was one turn left, and Katerina backed up to dodge the hits before trying to jab again.

Silver overpowered her easily. It was enthralling to meet a match after years of her being used as her fencing team’s secret weapon back in her original dimension. His form was a lot more offensive than Katerina’s strategic one.

If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve guessed he was trained to fight for real instead of for sport.

Eventually, they both felt satisfied with their spar and dropped to the grass. Despite all the energy he displayed before, his head swayed, and his body lay slack with drowsiness against a tree beside her.

“Your form is excellent. You have quite a talent.” Silver complimented, speech slow but sincere.

“Thanks. I’ve been fencing since I was a kid, along with other imposed hobbies.” She replied.

“That’s quite a coincidence because I’ve trained with the sword since I was a child too.” Silver added. “Would you be interested in training with me again?”

Katerina was about to say ‘yes’ when her phone buzzed. She pulled it out and took a quick look at the text.

Idia: WHERE R U?? Did u find him? Sometimes he sleeps on the ground on campus, but that could be anywhere-

Katerina rolled her eyes and put the phone down. She’d get to him in a minute.

“Yeah, I’d love- I mean-“ Katerina fumbled, but thankfully it wasn’t noticed at all. “Oh.”

In only a matter of seconds, Silver was fast asleep.

All of the quirks that Idia had described to her were a reality. It was stranger than anything she had experienced so far in this strange world, and even stranger than befriending a talking cat monster, was this boy who came straight out of a fairytale.

She had his gaming account info…So she could give him her answer there.

Katerina left to her self-proclaimed master to report what she had found. She definitely found a lot more than what she expected to find.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst fic #twst silver #idia shroud #twst mc #Katerina Vallis #as you can tell I rly like mc X silver #rip to any typos I might've missed I will go back in and fix #twst yuu

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bluejaysandblackbats · 3 months ago

Text

Hair Trigger

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam, YJ98

Summary: A junior at Gotham University, Jason finds it difficult to conceal his worsening mental health from his family and his friend, Jon Lane Kent. Family secrets are revealed and boundaries are pushed as Jason and Laney struggle to navigate through school, their romantic feelings, and their trauma. Could the reintroduction of Laney Kent be more trouble than it's worth, or is it just what Jason needed to confront the demons of his past?

I will also do trigger warnings for chapters and if there is smut I have the chapter(s) tagged so you don't have to worry about nsfw in the fic if you're just here for the story itself.

Chapters: 22/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Jonathan Lane Kent, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake, Conner Kent, Natalia Knight, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Cassie Sandsmark, Chris Kent, Bart Allen, Original Character(s)

Relationships: JayLaney, Clois, TimKon

Additional Tags: University AU, No Powers AU, Sharing A Bed, Romance, Angst, TW // Kidnapping , TW // Gun Violence

Chapter Twenty-Two: Couples Therapy

Jason sat at the counter with Bart as they looked at the rough draft of Jason's children's book with Bart's illustrations. "How's Conner's brother doing?" Bart asked as he flipped through the printed pages.

"He's doing alright, considering... Laney's tough," Jason answered. "Hey, are you gonna publish your book for real?" Bart asked.

Jason nodded. "Our book. And yeah, I will. I want to thank you for helping—."

"No worries, and you serious about the whole our book thing? Like you're gonna put my name on the cover?" Bart asked. I nodded.

"Where's everyone?" Jason asked.

Bart shrugged. "Tim's grocery shopping. Cissie and Cassie are visiting their parents, and you know where Conner is," Bart answered, "I'm not alone all day, though. My girlfriend's visiting." Jason cocked his head, and Bart took an orange off the counter and used his teeth to peel it. "She's never met my friends before."

Jason smiled, "You shouldn't be nervous. You guys have a cool thing going on here."

"I know, but I don't just want her to like it here. I want her to love it here... So maybe she'll want to move in," Bart confessed. Jason softened, relaxing his shoulders. "I even redecorated my room."

"All the cool haunted houses are open right now. What city has cooler haunted houses than Gotham?" Jason suggested, and a smile spread across Bart's face.

"You're a genius," Bart thanked him. Before Jason could answer, someone knocked on the door, and Bart flew out of his chair and ran over to answer. He stopped in his tracks and looked back at Jason, and mouthed something.

"This is your apartment," Jason whispered.

Bart gestured for Jason to answer. "Please?" Bart mumbled. Jason walked over to the door just as they heard another knock. Bart went back to the kitchen.

Jason answered the door and let a dark-haired girl in. "Hi, you must—. Actually, you're nothing like the people Bart described," she cocked her head, "I'm Carol, by the way."

"Jason, I'm Tim's older brother," Jason answered as he shook her hand. Carol opened her mouth to reply to Jason, but she was swept off her feet by Bart. He spun her around, and he finally put her down to give her a kiss.

He embraced her, and they stepped side to side. "I missed you so much!" Bart exclaimed. Carol giggled as she held him.

"I missed you too," Carol beamed, "You smell good."

"Thanks, I ate an orange," Bart replied, and she playfully punched his shoulder.

Jason got his bag and got ready to leave before telling Bart that he could show Carol the book if he wanted to. Jason's phone rang as he made his way out of the building, and he answered.

"Hey, Dad. Wanna hang out?" Jason asked.

"You don't have another dad do you?" Bruce joked. Jason rolled his eyes.

"I wanna talk to you. Maybe we can grab a bite?" Jason asked. Bruce didn't answer. "Is that a no?"

"No, I'm just a little shocked. Is it bad news?" Bruce asked.

"Um... Not really bad news. I mean, it's good news for me. I'm not sure how you'll react, though," Jason answered as he walked down the street. "I'm a little excited to tell you about it, but I want to tell you in person."

"Where are you? I can come and pick you up," Bruce replied. Jason told Bruce where he was, and he walked into the nearest fast food place and ordered something to eat. By the time Bruce got to the restaurant, Jason already started eating his first burger.

Bruce sat across from Jason at the table. "I got some onion rings," Jason smiled as he pushed the bag over to Bruce.

Jason wiped his hands on a napkin and reached into his bag before passing the printed rough draft of his book to Bruce. Bruce read through the cardstock-printed rough draft, and Jason bounced his legs as he waited for Bruce to finish reading. "Have you shown this to Laney?" Bruce asked.

Jason shook his head. "But he did have a lot to do with why I wrote it... And why I want to publish it. He said I shouldn't give up on it, and I think he was right. I want to surprise Lane with a hard copy," Jason smiled. Bruce smiled a half-smile before taking his pocketbook out of the interior of his suit jacket. "Wait—."

"Jason, let me do this. You're going to be doing all the hard work anyway. I just want to help. You never let me help," Bruce whispered, "ISBN's, copyrights... All those things cost money. If anything, just let me help with that."

Jason nodded. "Okay. Yeah, okay," Jason agreed, "But you gotta let me do the rest on my own." Bruce gave Jason his copy back, and he started eating his onion rings.

"How is Laney holding up?" Bruce asked. Jason pulled another burger out of the paper bag and continued to eat.

"He's holding up... I just think he's waiting to see how things pan out before he loses it," Jason replied, covering his half-full mouth as he spoke.

Bruce nodded. "How have things been between the two of you lately?" Bruce questioned.

"This is the first time in weeks that we've spent real time apart. It feels weird being away from Lane, but I think it's good. Gave me time to get things done, and it gives him time to himself," Jason whispered, "I think I'm gonna go back to my own place tonight."

"Why don't you—? Never mind, I shouldn't—."

"Okay, I kind of didn't want to be alone anyway. I could ride back with you if you're going home after this," Jason suggested, and a smile spread across Bruce's face. "Is Damian home?"

Bruce nodded. "But I think he's going to spend the night in Christopher and Sammy's hotel," Bruce answered, "Jason, how's school?"

Jason's phone vibrated, and he held up a finger to Bruce. "Hold on. I just have to call him real quick," Jason whispered as he stepped outside to call Laney.

"Jason before you—."

"I thought we were doing okay. I feel weird that you're springing this shit on me—."

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Jason, chill. I'm asking you because we are doing good. I just want you to go with me," Laney whispered, "I want you to meet her. You don't have to say yes, but I'd—."

Jason made a noise before offering Laney a chance to finish his sentence. "No, Jason, please just tell me what you have to tell me," Laney whispered.

"I don't know. I'd have to think about it. Listen, I'm sleeping at my dad's this weekend, so maybe we can talk about it on Monday at lunch?" Jason suggested.

"Jason, I love you so much. I mean that... I'm not gonna be mad if you say you don't wanna go. I just want you to consider it," Laney whispered, "This is the first weekend we've spent apart in like two weeks..."

"Yeah, it's gonna be a little weird. I love you, and I promise I will think about going with you next weekend," Jason whispered.

"I love you too. Have a good time this weekend. I just picked your brother up and dropped him off at the hotel," Laney noted. They finished their phone call, and Bruce went back inside to the table.

"Was that Laney?" Bruce asked. Jason nodded. "Bad news?"

"Nah, I just have to think about something. Laney invited me to sit in on his appointment. I don't know," Jason replied as he finished his second burger.

"What kind of appointment?" Bruce asked.

"Therapy, but like... I don't know. Should I go?" Jason asked. "I just don't want to end up saying something that's supposed to just be between Laney and me."

Bruce nodded. "I think he'll just appreciate the fact that you went with him if you do go," Bruce answered. After they both finished eating, Jason followed Bruce out to the car, and Bruce turned the radio on. "How are you doing in school?" Bruce asked a second time.

"Good, I'm still turning in my assignments and studying for tests—."

"And how are you doing?" Bruce asked. Jason shrugged. "Jason..."

"I'm trying to give him space even though I don't think he wants it... And, I guess I'm the one who really needs the weekend to think. I mean, it's not a relationship thing. I love Lane. It's just that so many horrible things happened this week, and I want to process some of it on my own," Jason explained. Bruce nodded.

"That's fair, but don't you think you should tell Laney that?" Bruce asked. Jason shook his head. "And why not?"

"I don't want him to feel like a burden. I'll be fine by Monday. I'm gonna go see him," Jason replied in an attempt to reassure himself. Bruce nodded. "Dad, I don't know how to help him, and I can't face him if I can't help him."

"Maybe you are helping him. Maybe all he wants is for you to just be there for him," Bruce replied. Jason swallowed hard. "Have you ever considered that you're comforting to him?"

"I haven't thought much of anything since I almost lost him... I don't know. Laney's not-. I don't know how to help what I can't see. I don't really know what's going on in his—."

"Ask him... And if you really want to know, you should go with him to his appointment. That's just my opinion on things," Bruce interrupted, "And you know what, I wasn't gonna tell you this, but I think it needs to be said... I changed my mind about him. I think you're both good for each other."

Jason faintly smiled as he looked out the window, and the conversation ended there. When they got back to the manor, Jason went up to his room and made another phone call. "Lane? Are you alone?" Jason asked. He heard a door shut.

"I am now... What is it? You gonna say something—?"

"I'll go with you to your appointment next week," Jason blurted out before he could change his mind. Laney didn't say anything. "Lane? Are you there?"

"Can you repeat that?" Laney asked, his voice low and serious.

"I want to go with you... And yes, the idea of going terrifies me, but not knowing how you're doing scares me even more," Jason whispered. Laney let out a nervous laugh.

"Thanks, Jason. Thank you so much," Laney took a deep breath, and Jason's shoulders relaxed. Jason could hear a soft weeping noise. "I'm sorry, I just—. Jay, I really appreciate you doing this."

"Hey, don't worry about it... I'm promising you right now that I'll be there with you on Friday," Jason ensured. Laney made an affirmative noise. "I love you, and I'm sorry about blowing up earlier. Bruce put things into perspective for me. I want you to know that you can trust me to be there for you." Laney sniffed.

"I love you too," he whispered.

"How did things go with Sammy?" Jason asked. Laney let out a laugh.

"He asked me when you and I were getting married," Laney chuckled, and Jason laughed along with him. "Asking the hard questions at all times. Other than that, though, it was okay. We had fun."

"Good, and tell him to ask you that again in a year," Jason smiled, and Laney choked. "See you Monday."

"Jason, you asshole," Laney laughed, and they hung up.

Jason sat alone in his room for a while before going back downstairs to grab a snack. "Hey, Dad, you were right," Jason raised his voice, looking around for Bruce.

"About what?" Cass asked. Jason jumped before turning around to embrace his sister. "Hi."

"You here this weekend too?" Jason asked. She nodded.

"I saw Lane," Cass whispered as she grabbed a soda from the fridge.

"Did Laney say hi to you?" Jason asked. She nodded, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh. "What?"

"Dad fell down the stairs," she announced.

Jason's eyes widened as he asked, "Just now?" She shook her head.

"When he left to get you," Cass answered. Jason snorted as he peeled a banana and took a bite.

"You're terrible," Jason chuckled.

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