#and like my mom is HOH | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goldenlikedayl1ght · 10 months ago

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peace - m. murdock

a/n: hi guys! missed you. desperately wanted to write more hoh!reader, so i did it. this can be read on it's own, OR it can be read as a part two to my fic, 'the lakes', which you can read here! feedback always appreciated! <3 warnings: so much damn fluff, suggestive behaviors, like literally tooth rotting fluff! mentions of some abelism but nothing actually happens it's just sort of mentioned. matt hates buffalo chicken pizza, the cold hurts readers ears, also a lot of kissin' and tinnitus because of course there is. word count: 3.0k summary: tinnitus, buffalo chicken pizza, and objections. what more can you ask for from matt murdock? paring: matt murdock x hoh!reader now playing: peace - taylor swift "the devils in the details/but you got a friend in me/would be enough if i could never give you peace?"

There are things that no one teaches you about dating.

There are things that no one teaches you about dating Matt Murdock, a blind man.

There are things that no one teaches you about dating Matt Murdock, a blind man, who has super senses and is also a vigilante.

There are things that no one teaches you about dating Matt Murdock, a blind man, who has super senses and is also a vigilante… while also being deaf.

As you lost your hearing, you knew dating would be difficult. That was never a secret. Your first girlfriend after you started wearing hearing aids once hid them from you as a punishment after an argument. Safe to say that relationship didn’t last long.

One time, you went on a date with a guy who asked in the middle of your dinner, ‘Could you please take off your headphones? It’s cool that they’re Bluetooth but it’s really rude.’ You did not make it to dessert.

Then there was the time that your ex-boyfriend thought you were talking about him in ASL to your mom in front of him. You broke up with him soon after.

And Matt has experienced his fair share of ableism in dating too—Women who thought they could get away with stealing from him because he was blind, or that thought that he just had to have a service dog, and he’d be so cute with one.

So, when you started dating each other, things were obviously different. You weren’t sure how, but the idea of dating another person with a disability never occurred to you. Maybe it was because of how often you found people playing oppression Olympics, a classic game of ‘who has it worse?’ a game you had no interest in playing.

And the struggles you and Matt have in your relationship are never ones represented in rom-coms or in romantic novels. Dating any blind man would have been hardly represented but Matt, with his charm and heightened senses, was completely uncharted waters. And yet, you dive in headfirst.

One of the most romantic things Matt does for you within the first six months of your relationship happens on a cold February day. Winter in New York isn’t over until at least March, so you walk home from work, arm in arm. You decide to stop in for Thai food but decide to stand outside in favor of in the crowded restaurant where Matt would be hearing too many things and you wouldn’t be hearing nearly enough.

But he notices, as he often does, how you squirm in discomfort, waiting for time to pass. Though you do not show it in your face, he hears it in the way you breath deeply to try and relax through whatever it is that’s bothering you. He notices the grip on his arm tightening, even just a bit.

“What’s wrong, bee?” You’re never getting over your fondness for the nickname. But you stay quiet for a second, because you know he can tell if you’re lying.

“My ears hurt.” You hate saying it, because you feel like it’s all you do—yap about your ears and how much they hurt. They hurt from talking on the phone and holding it up to your ear for so long. They hurt from being in loud environments like parties and bars. But dear god, do they hurt right now. And you know exactly why.

“Oh, is it too loud? We could move to a different spot,” he says softly but you shake your head.

“Uh.. No. It’s cold. The cold is bothering my ears.” You explain, and he just nods. But before he can respond, you continue, “They’re in pain when it’s cold and earmuffs don’t do anything except block out sound and I can’t hear anyways, negating the point of my hearing aids.” You’ve tried earmuffs time and time again. And usually, you’d just wear a beanie or something, but you forgot yours.

So, Matt thinks for a moment, before tucking his cane under his arm, before lifting his hands to come up to your face. The heel of his hand comes up to rest against your cheeks while the length of his fingers gently cup around your ears. He’s not pressing down, making it harder to hear, but your ears are immediately warmer. Matt’s hands—and well, everything, are naturally very warm and the leather gloves he has on makes it even more so.

Your face flushes, as you lean into his touch. What a man you have found yourself. You stay like this for a little while, until your food is ready. Your face turns and you plant a gentle kiss to the palm of his hand.

As you leave the restaurant after grabbing your food, you want to say one more thing. Just quickly.

“Thanks for helping, by the way.. I’m sorry I constantly complain about my ears.” You tell him, and he just gets this goofy grin on his face.

“At least you’re not blind. That would suck.” He links his arm with yours. You just laugh, leaning against him.

“Shut up,” and at this request, he scoffs.

“You love listening to me talk, it’s one of your favorite things ever!” he defends.

You just grin because your boyfriend can tell when you’re lying. And you know anything other than telling him that what he said was true would be the biggest lie you ever told.

...

It’s not all sunshine and rainbows with Matt, though.

Okay, maybe that’s sort of dramatic. Neither of you are particularly violent nor angry, but one time you get really heated.

Your time working with Nelson, Murdock & Page is wonderful, and because it’s just the four of you, often, you wind up getting lunch together. Someone runs out, grabs food, and you all sit in the conference room, talk and eat.

But today, you barely made it to lunch.

“Where do you guys wanna eat today?” Foggy asks, leaning against your doorway. He knows Matt can hear him from wherever, but you need him to be in the room to be able to decode what he’s saying. Karen leans against the desk in the main part of the office.

“Pizza?” You shrug, and Matt calls from his office,

“Sounds good!”

“Great. What do you guys want?” He asks.

“I’m really in the mood for buffalo chicken pizza, I dunno why.” You shrug. Matt’s footsteps echo through the office, before he’s in your doorway as well.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

You gaze at him, perplexed.

“Uh… I want buffalo chicken pizza?”

“Honey, You cannot be serious.”

“What is your problem, Matthew?” You laugh, but he looks disgusted.

“You are a New York native! How can you enjoy something as blasphemous as wanting buffalo chicken pizza?” He asks, and Foggy just laughs.

“Dude, no way. You can’t be discriminatory towards pizza.” Then, Karen speaks up.

“No, you can’t. Not technically. But I most definitely am. Buffalo chicken pizza ruins the point of pizza!”

Then, you go to defend yourself.

“The point of Pizza is to enjoy it! And I enjoy buffalo chicken pizza!”

“Well, you’re enjoying pizza wrong!”

“You can’t enjoy pizza incorrectly!”

At this point, Foggy is just giggling, “I can’t breathe,” He wheezes.

Now, you stand and leave your desk, going into the main part of the office.

“Where are you going?” Matt asks.

“I don’t need to be berated about my pizza preferences in my own office by my own boyfriend!”

“I have a valid excuse; I can taste all the ingredients of buffalo chicken pizza and it’s disgusting!”

“It’s not my fault you’re a freak with crazy senses!”

Matt gasps, “Bee, you wound me!”

“Do not use that nickname with me, Matthew!” You tell him, “That’s a low blow!”

“Why, just because I think your pizza choices are awful doesn’t mean I don’t still love you, Sweetheart! Your pizza preference is just inexcusable, and I think you need to accept that—”

“You know what?”

“What?”

Your hands come up to your ears, quickly turning your hearing aids off and taking them off, putting it on a nearby desk.

Though you cannot hear, Foggy and Karen’s face tells you that they are dying of laughter, and Matt has this offended look on his face when he realizes he no longer hears the familiar buzzing of your hearing aids.

This is how you spend your day. You sit at your desk, hungry, as your boyfriend yaps by your doorway. You know he’s asking you to put your hearing aids in or telling you that your pizza request is dumb, you can just sort of make out what he’s saying by the movement of his lips.

But you do not budge, and by the time it’s time to go back to his apartment, you simply slip on your coat and wait for him to meet you by the door. He has given up trying to talk to you, for the most part. But the silent treatment is killing him. Even when you get to his apartment, he’s left speechless as you silently retreat into his bedroom, stealing some clothes and going to lay down.

Honestly, though? The worst part isn’t the silent treatment or ignoring him, but it’s the fact that he knows your ears ring even worse when you walk through the city without your hearing aids on. He knows you’re in pain. It’s killing him because you’re trying not to show it, but he can tell you’re clenching your jaw and burying your head beneath his pillow. You’re trying to rely on the softness of his sheets and the faint smell of him lingering between the sheets.

So, he devises a plan. And every minute he waits for the plan to be carried out is torture because he knows you’re too stubborn to forfeit your opinion on buffalo chicken pizza. When he is finally able to give you an apology you truly deserve, he grabs your hearing aids off the coffee table and crawls into bed behind you. You feel the bed dip but don’t say anything.

He plants a soft kiss to your hand, beginning to trail kisses up your arm and shoulder. He kisses your neck, and then jaw. You glance back over to him, seeing the hearing aids in his hand. You take them from him and put them on, before turning them on. He grins at the familiar humming they create at a frequency that will not bother you.

“Still mad at me, bee?” He asks, kissing your shoulder again. You shrug.

“Mad is a strong word, but yes.”

“Let me make it up to you?”

“Fine, but only because you’re cute.” He likes this answer. He takes your hand and pulls you off the bed, taking you to the kitchen. And you smell.. Pizza. There’s a box from your favorite place, and you step away from him to open the box. It’s a half plain pie and a half buffalo chicken pie. Because no matter how much he disagrees with you, he just wants you to talk to him and not be in so much pain for the sake of winning an argument.

You turn your head and place a soft kiss to his cheek. He tilts his head and places a soft kiss to your lips.

“Am I forgiven, bee?”

“I think so, Matty.” You hum.

He grins and kisses you again, thrilled to sense your more relaxed posture now.

...

Another challenge of your relationship comes from being lawyers. Mostly since you’re both ridiculously stubborn. You have a fun game you like to play out of it, though.

This one time you play, you’re laying with him on his couch, listening to music when you start yapping.

“I think I might style my hair a different way,” you tell him, but he just shrugs and plays with your hair.

“I think you look gorgeous either way.”

You furrow your brows for a second, and his face splits into a grin since he knows what’s coming.

“Objection,” you start, “You’re blind, you have no actual way of telling if I’m conventionally attractive.”

He considers this for a second.

“Overruled,” He determines, “Beauty is subjective, and in my opinion, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known.” Your face flushes.

“Objection,” You start again, and he groans, knowing you won’t let it go, “You don’t need to flirt with me, I already want you.”

“Overruled,” He counters again, quicker this time, “I like flirting with you, and it keeps the spark alive. Plus, I like making you blush.”

You raise an eyebrow, and he knows what’s coming next.

“Objection,” You hum, “How could you possibly know I’m blushing?”

He simply moves his hands from your hair and rests them against your cheeks, before deciding.

“Overruled.”

There’s another time that you’re at Josie’s, and you want to talk to Karen about a surprise you’re planning for his birthday, but he’s sitting right there, so you start signing. And he knows you’re signing by the way your hands smack, and the air moves through your fingers.

“Objection,” He groans, “I can’t understand what you’re talking about!”

“Mm, Overruled,” You determine, “There are some things I’m allowed to keep from you, but you have super senses and can tell when I’m lying and can hear me from a long distance away. Signing is the only way to have things be confidential.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, objection—You aren’t supposed to keep secrets from your partner.”

“Overruled.” You tell him. “One, that’s something people say about wedded spouses, ask me to marry you, get a marriage certificate and show me a nice ring then we’ll talk,” He blushes at that, “Two, you have an unhealthy idea of relationships from past relationships. You’re in therapy for a reason.”

Matt nods.

“Okay, okay.” He sighs, “That’s fair.” You grin at this.

“See? Was it so hard to let me win, Counselor?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, it was, Counselor.” He tells you, but you just giggle, because you love being a lawyer and you love your boyfriend.

But this last time is your favorite.

You spent the night drinking at Marci and Foggy’s, but there was this tension between you and Matt, and you can hardly wait to get home. So at some point, you make a half assed excuse, mumbling something about how your hearing aid batteries are low, but whatever it was that you told them as an excuse, you don’t really care.

Because now you’re on your bed, Matt pressed against you as he kisses down your neck. His teeth graze against your skin, and you gasp when he bites down, leaving a large mark on your neck.

Then, Matt, horny and a little tipsy, goes,

“Objection, I thought I told you to be quiet.” He continues to kiss your neck, jumping from side to side, leaving marks here and there.

“Overruled, I’m deaf, I can’t tell how loud I’m being,” You hum, your fingers lacing into his hair. He hums and kisses your collarbone before he speaks again.

“Objection,”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Matt—”

He shushes you softly before kissing you.

“Ssh… It’s listening time, sweetheart,” Okay, that was hot, “Objection,” He starts again, “You can be quiet for me, I know you can. I know you can follow orders, baby.” He then kisses your neck again.

“Overruled,” You start, tugging on his hair a bit. “You decided to play our game while knowing I’m at your mercy. It’s an abuse of power.”

“An abuse of—” he half scoffs, half chuckles. “You know what, Sweetheart?”

“What, Matty?”

“Objection. Be quiet or I’ll stop.”

Damn. An ultimatum. You knew that in situations like these, Matt’s willpower is stronger than yours.

“Sustained.”

“There we go, bee, was that so hard?”

...

The real best part of dating Matt Murdock, a blind lawyer with super senses while being deaf?

Well..

It starts on a warm sunny Sunday morning. You’re laying in bed, the sun peeking through its curtains. You’re laying on your stomach, face smooshed against pillows as he stretches out beside you. In another life, your dear boyfriend was a cat.

You don’t have your hearing aids in yet. It’s too early. Plus, you’re just enjoying the look of Matt basking in the warmth of the light. He’s gorgeous, your boy.

You lean forward and gently kiss the corner of his eyes, squeezed shut as he stretches. He stops when he feels your lips against his skin, smiling softly. He says good morning, but you can’t really hear him, so you just take his hand and press a kiss to his skin there too.

He returns the favor later, as you’re pouring your coffee. He presses a soft kiss to your ear, and you grin, resting your body against his He presses another kiss to your other ear. It’s something small, but it thrills you.

Matt is gentle with you in a way that you’re not used to. It’s not the sort of gentleness that comes with most people, where they’re afraid of breaking you because of your being deaf, but it’s a gentleness that comes despite it.

You enjoy bathing in his affection, especially because he is just so willing to give it to you and while it should be something you’re used to, you’re not. But you’re getting there. Matt makes sure of it.

The pair of you just seem to find the darkest cracks and crevices of the other, and you love those parts dearly.

You begin to kiss the corner of his eyes more often, and it quickly replaces his jaw as your favorite place to kiss. And your ears, despite how much pain and suffering they provide to you, Matt is a big fan of just kissing them.

So, when he leans forward and kisses your ears, you lean over to him and kiss the corners of his eyes. The way he squeezes his eyes shut at the affection is pretty adorable. It’s always awful when he must slip on those red glasses that hide those pretty eyes.

“Objection,” you groan.

He places a soft kiss to the top of your ear.

“Overruled.”

#matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil #daredevil fic #matt murdock fic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x hoh!reader #deaf!reader #hoh!reader #matt murdock x gn!reader #gn!reader

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ollieisgone · 3 months ago

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Okay but can I just elaborate on HOH/Deaf Will Solace, as a HOH person we need more representation in general but also I feel as though the percy jackson community is lacking in disability representation whether it's in the books or even just in the fandom. So I give to you my reasons for headcanoning will solace as HOH/Deaf. First of all it makes sense to me as a HOH person that he would have hearing problems as his mom was a singer at one point so he may have been on tours/to some of her concerts as a kid, and we all know that being around speakers/loud noises for an extended period of time can cause hearing loss. Second of all, I believe that in the Sun and the Star (correct me if im wrong), we learn that he has the ability to whistle extremely loudly aka super sonic whistle, imagine him discovering this power before he was really able to control any of his powers, practicing to be able to control this power could have affected his eardrums causing him to lose hearing in his ears after rupturing his eardrums a few too many times. Obviously, all of this is just a headcanon, but I'd like to put it out there as I feel like it may help others with similar disabilities find solace in a character they may like/relate to. Also, I know I may not be the only person with this headcanon, and I'm not in any way claiming to own this headcanon, I just wanted to elaborate further on it.

#will solace #the sun and the star #rrverse #pjo headcanon #tsats #pjo fandom

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irisintheafterglow · 10 months ago

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hello!! I hope you’re having a wonderful day/night ^^ I was wondering if u could write about bakugou x deaf reader? Like bakugou’s mom is HOH (which is why she’s always screaming :0) and bakugou knows sign because of that so he can communicate w deaf reader which surprises them!

simple complication, miscommunication (pro!bakugo x deaf!reader)

wc: 2k

cw/tags: established relationship, story of first meeting, strangers to lovers, implied fem!reader but no specific pronouns used (reader does use makeup), guy being an asshole but it's ok because kats scares him away

note: hi!!!! this is probably one of my favorite (if not THE favorite) prompts i've ever received. i'm actually majoring in deaf studies and focusing on increasing deaf/HOH rep in popular media. SO! i really love this prompt. i'm hearing, so i'm always still learning from the deaf and HOH community and acknowledge that i have a lot more to learn! because of this, this is mainly from kats' perspective because i don't think it's appropriate for me, as a hearing writer, to write from the perspective of a deaf reader. i talked way too much, sorry for the long note, and i hope you like this!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

He can’t remember the last time he was this nervous to see his own mother.

For the twentieth time, he confirmed that the windows were clear of smudges, the floorboards were as shiny as his Hero Award trophies on the living room shelves, and the wiring on the doorbell light was functioning correctly. Everything was as it should have been. Still, an anxious churning in his gut tells him something is wrong and he throws the front door open without thinking, determinedly jabbing his thumb against the button next to the doorknob. As usual, the bright orange light by the “FRONT DOOR” sign above the hallway flashes once. Everything was working as it should have been, so he couldn’t pinpoint why he felt so nauseous. He tests the door light several more times and completely forgets that you were getting ready in the bathroom.

When he spots you, you’re wearing his bathrobe and a makeup brush is tucked behind your ear. Your eyebrows furrow in concern of why the door light started flashing an hour early as you peek out from the hallway. He gives you an apologetic look, the corner of his mouth turning down in clear dissatisfaction.

Sorry. Testing the door light. Your mouth opens into an oh of understanding and you nod, taking note of the subtle ways your boyfriend was trying to hide his nerves. His head appears around the corner of the door when you knock your knuckles against the wall to get his attention.

You’re gonna break your jaw if you keep it clenched like that. His frown only deepens and he can tell you’re trying not to laugh from the way your eyes sparkle. It’s nice that you’re excited to see Mrs. Bakugo again, but he’s already anticipating the tidal wave of disapproving comments about the new place you recently moved into together. Shut the door, Katsuki. You’re letting the warm air out. He reluctantly obeys, following you down the hallway to the master bathroom and hopping up onto the counter to watch you finish your makeup. He’s careful to sit in a spot where you can sign without having to turn to face him; you catch his eye in the mirror’s reflection and put your brush down with a sigh, raising your eyebrows expectantly. Food done? You already know all his dishes have been done since this morning, but you’re still trying to help him take inventory of the things he doesn’t need to worry about anymore.

Just need to throw some extra stuff on the salad. I’ll do it before we eat. You nod, returning to tapping a neutral color onto your eyelids when you catch his shoulders sag as he huffs. The makeup brush is carefully set down again and your eyebrows return to their expectant position.

Wanna tell me why you look so… Your fingers flutter around absentmindedly for a few seconds while you look for the right word. Dejected?

I’m not dejected.

Your pouty lip says otherwise, you respond with a small smirk. I’ve loved you long enough to read your body language, no matter how stiff or angry. You scrunch your face up in mock wrath and that finally makes him break the tiniest ghost of a smile. Tell me, please, so I can help you. He shakes his head and you set your mouth in a thin line in light-hearted irritation.

You don’t need to help with anything. My mom can just be a lot sometimes. You know that. You shrug, fondly remembering the first time Katsuki brought you to meet his mother. To your boyfriend’s horror, his mother got so excited to sign that she knocked over her wine glass on three separate occasions. And she really likes you, so she might end up accidentally revealing some embarrassing shit about me.

That’s what I’m hoping for. You shoot him a wink and Katsuki can feel his face become a little warmer. I’m praying that the woman brings baby photos. His face turns a deeper shade of red and you burst out laughing, your smile a sight that he’d never get tired of. Hey, you rap your knuckles against the marble again and force him to look at you. We’ve seen scarier stuff than your mom.

At least in those situations, I can blast my way out.

Sure. But, if you blast your way out of tonight, you’re paying for property repairs. He sticks his tongue out at you defiantly and you copy the gesture, smiling to yourself when he slides off the counter and wraps his arms around your torso, resting his chin where your neck meets your shoulder. Your fingers gently trace his cheekbones and he meets your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. We’ll be fine tonight, Katsuki. I promise. Can’t be any worse than our first meeting, hmm? You feel his chest rumble against your back as he groans, hiding his face in your skin as it heats up again.

The first time you met Katsuki was a very abnormal case of wrong place, right time. A high-threat crime boss had swiped a political candidate off the street the night before the most important debate of the season, following him as he went out to pick up snacks for his assistants. The candidate was a passionate supporter of public policy protecting the liberties of Pros, and to lose him right before an election would be catastrophic for agencies across the country. To the rest of the city, it was a public emergency; for Katsuki, it was a Tuesday night.

“Pro on the scene, clear out!” His boots cross the police tape and the cops part the way for him like he was an activated grenade, avoiding his gaze and conveniently finding new tasks that were out of his firing range. Someone from some federal agency approaches him blabbing nonsense about how disastrous this would be if the press arrived and he all but tunes them out, his focus zeroing in on a scene happening just outside of the barricaded perimeter.

It wasn’t uncommon for policemen to command passing civilians to keep moving, but something about the confrontation he quietly approached felt different. In any other case, the civilians would ask the police about something they weren’t allowed to disclose and then they would leave, maybe sticking around to get their ten seconds on the nightly new segment. You were clearly not like those civilians.

“Hey! I’ve got a job to do, so you better get the hell out of here or I’m gonna charge you for disturbing a crime scene!” The cop was screaming at you to the point where his voice broke and you didn’t even flinch, continuing to stare daggers into him from pure frustration. He tries to yell again and you cut him off with a series of ridiculously exaggerated gestures, looking at the policeman like he was dumb as rocks. “I don’t have time for this, and I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying!” But Katsuki does.

“Oi!” The cop doesn’t hear him as he storms across the concrete, palms crackling.

“Fuckin’ crazy–” You look ready to bite off the accusatory finger the cop points in your face when a strong gloved hand wraps around the asshole’s wrist, unceremoniously shoving him out of the way to listen to you himself. “Who the fuck–”

“Get lost, fuckface, and take the uselessness with you,” Katsuki seethes, putting just enough heat into his hands for the guy to yelp and scurry away. He turns around to find a scowl intense enough to rival his own and he takes a deep breath, wordlessly encouraging you to take one too. You watch with caution as he tugs his gloves off and stuffs them in his belt. Sorry about him, he signs and you blink, taken aback. These kinds of scenes make everyone on edge more on edge.

You know sign?

My mom, she’s hard of hearing. Growing up, she taught me sign as a second language. You nod, still eyeing him a little suspiciously. I need to get back to work, but I just want to apologize for him again. You look like you’re about to respond but he looks down, fishing through a pouch of his belt and pulling out a crumpled slip of paper. This is some coupon I got a while back from a business we saved. Buy yourself a coffee. You take the ripped rectangle with a look of disgust and shock and he nods politely, turning to leave. Before he’s even one step away, he finds himself being yanked backward by the collar of his shirt, readying his Quirk to fire on pure instinct and whirling to stare you down like a bull facing a matador. His palm is scorching against your skin when he grabs your wrist, but you don’t relent. What the fuck are you doing?

I know where they took him. Give me a map and a marker. His eyes widen and he loosens his grip but doesn’t let go, gently guiding you around the barricade, through the crowds of cops, and into the detectives’ truck. He pushes past the people surrounding the table and pulls up a digital map of the city on the touchscreen.

Everything’s electronic now, so use this as your map, he explains and you nod in understanding, hesitantly tapping a finger on the screen and receiving a bombardment of paragraphs about crimes in the area. Dynamight’s hand moves up and down at the edge of your vision and you look up, still unsure how you’re supposed to use such a complicated piece of technology. I know. It’s over-engineered and stupid. Do you know the exact address where they took him? You shake your head and he grimaces, running a hand through his hair.

I don’t know the address, but I know the directions of how to get there. On this map, where’s the convenience store? His pointer and index finger swipe around the screen, spreading out as he zooms in on the 2D representation of the site where the candidate was taken. You copy his actions and zoom out slightly again, making sure to remember which rectangle was the convenience store. Is there a way to draw on this? Dynamight pushes a button on the edge of the table and a marker pops out. Cool.

It’s the only cool function this thing has. Everything else just makes my job harder, he signs and swears he can see the slightest smile on your face while he hands you the marker. Miraculously, you’re able to copy the navigation route you saw on one of the thug’s phones while you waited in line at the convenience store. You circle the building in bright pink and the Pro wastes no time, barking out orders to surrounding cops and re-donning his gauntlets and one glove. His ungloved hand helps you down from the truck and he pulls you aside, away from the commotion of the crime scene. Do you live near here?

A few blocks down, yes. He fishes around a pouch on his belt again and retrieves a black ballpoint pen, handing it to you despite your obvious confusion.

Write down your address, he signs and he holds out the back of his ungloved hand to you.

Why?

I’ll come find you after we make the arrests. Maybe you can let me buy you a coffee. A smirk appears on your lips and Katsuki finds his face heating up.

Is it gonna be with the tattered coupon? He rolls his eyes and you laugh, a sound that he finds he wants to hear again and again. You later explain to Katsuki and the detectives that you were questioning why the guy in front of you had his brightness so high, and the visual eavesdropping was purely by accident. Everything following the investigation felt like happy little accidents, too: Dynamight showing up at your door one night with two coffees and the last muffin the cafe had, Bakugo crashing onto your apartment’s fire escape after a particularly dangerous operation, Katsuki asking you out to dinner officially for the first time, his mother spilling her wine several times the first time she met you.

You knew you were in for a lifetime of more accidents when Mrs. Bakugo burst through the door fifteen minutes early, excitedly asking what venues you were looking at for your upcoming wedding.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#ask iris!#bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x y/n #bakugo x deaf!reader

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gods-favorite-autistic · 20 days ago

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fantasy high hc ! all the bad kids know sign language (solesian sign language? their own made up sign? probably both lets be honest)

(semi/)nonverbal gorgus/riz being able to communicate easily with their friends if speech is hard or theyre overwhelmed, i also hc that adaine loses speech when she gets really anxious or stressed about something no im not projecting

also hoh fig my beloved, she started losing her hearing when her horns grew in and the whole being a rockstar thing probably doesnt help, she has hearing aids (special made and enhanced by gorgugs tinkering) but they dont fix her hearing 100% and hearing aids are not comfy to wear 24/7 so being able to take them out and still communicate is great

(sorry for the ramble lol)

⚡️

Yessss I love this

They get the idea sometime during freshman year, everyone is hanging out at Riz’s place and it’s just very very loud and Riz has not been having a good day before that and Fig kept punching his arm all bro-ey and he ended up hiding in the kitchen signing with his mom, Fig recognized it when she went to go get a snack and joined in (she had tried to learn it when her horns grew in, it’s really janky but she’s trying her best) and Riz was just so excited to have somebody else know it

Fabian has the most trouble learning it, he tends to gesture vaguely a lot with his hands while talking so having to talk with his hands very specifically is weird for him, but he puts in the effort for his friends

Adaine starts teaching herself it (her father thinks it’s unpractical, she has comprehend languages if she really needs it, so she usually goes to the school library and practices there) and then once she picks it up she helps teach the other Bad Kids

Kristen already knows some from doing outreach with the church (they were culty but they weren’t fully ableist) but it’s mainly religious words so it’s pretty much as broken as her Elvish, she does pick it up surprisingly quickly (despite her abysmal dexterity)

Gorgug knows a few specific words his parents taught him when he was little (he was not very good at thinking clearly enough to communicate when he was overwhelmed so it’s mainly just words like “mad” “sad” and “loud” that he can sign really quickly), him and Fabian have study sessions for while once they start learning and figure out they’re both abysmal at it

Fig steals her moms card and signs up for lessons before figuring out that not a single one of these people know how to sign conversationally (she’s the only actual hoh person in there including the teacher who is just so condescending like she’s aware of how to sign the word yes she’s not inept) so she quits after like day two and learns with Adaine

Riz learned how to sign when he was like 6 (his parents thought it would be a useful life skill but they also figured out it both gave his hands something nondestructive to do and a way to communicate during meltdowns so they worked extra hard to teach him) and he helps the others out with their signing (mainly Fabian and Gorgug)

If they don’t want to be overheard they have a tendency of slipping into sign language, which is very confusing when they go from the loudest corner ever to literal silence+the smacking of hands

Fig tries to very discreetly talk shit with Fabian and Adaine in front of Jawbone by signing except Jawbone decided to learn sign the first week he was counselor so she got in trouble anyways (he did not let her use the “but im disabled” card to get out of it)

Fig tries to be her own translator at concerts (“Adaine can make a simulacra it’ll be cool!”) but her label said no

Fabian tends to use sign language any time he’s at a party and doesn’t feel like ruining his voice for the night just to chat with his friends

Gorgug thinks it’s really funny to sign curse words in front of teachers and then lie about what they mean (especially Porter in Junior year he thinks it’s hilarious)

#such a fun headcanon and you’re totally not rambling this is awesome!#autism (mads) speaks #mads answers asks #fantasy high #dimension 20 #fhjy #d20 #dimension 20 fantasy high #d20 fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #the bad kids #riz gukgak #fabian aramais seacaster #fabian seacaster #gorgug thistlespring #kristen applebees #fig faeth #adaine abernant

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luveline · 1 year ago

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If you’re taking requests can I request a Drabble on kbd au or zombie au? Nothing specific I’d read anything you wrote about either!!

for you my love, ty for requesting <3 steve zombie au! you and Steve get back to basics and go on a duo supply run together, and afterwards he’s tired in more way than one </3 fem!reader, 3k. TW for zombie apocalypse typical violence and gore

Steve caves the geek’s skull in with one well-timed thwack.

You don't cheer, this is grim work, but you smile at him as he rubs the wet spray of blood from his shaven cheek. Things are finally getting better —you found a bunch of necessities at a mom and pop soap store a few days ago, so Steve has been able to clean up, and you've managed to wash the ten layers of grease from your face. You feel good.

"Good job," you say, speaking in a hush.

Steve hasn't been very happy lately, and you don't like making it worse. Which isn't to say you're on eggshells or anything, but keeping a low profile ensures better chances of survival, and better chances of survival cheer him up.

He smiles back, and it's a total victory. The happiest he's looked in days, Steve wipes his baseball bat against the side of a vinyl seat with a pleased air about him. Best zombie killer ever.

You've shouldered your way into a traditional American diner. The interior is basically untouched, which is extremely exciting, as the prospects of finding food and batteries is high. The floor is thick tile, the tables between booths solid pine. It's an expensive looking establishment. The padlock on the front and back doors makes more sense now.

"Am I staying here?" you ask.

Steve squeezes your hand very gently. They're still tender from your infamous crawl across broken glass, and he can't stand hurting you.

"You're coming with me. Back to back, don't speak, we'll clear the room and open the kitchen door," he says quietly.

The kitchen door, which is ominously closed behind the serving counter.

You nod and give him a sticky sweet smile, hoping it says how much you like him. Love him. He looks around the diner quickly and then leans in to kiss your cheek. He doesn't believe in affection on the road because it distracts the both of you. False sense of security.

"Ready?" he asks.

You turn on the spot with your back to him. You'd think it was overkill to be so cautious if you hadn't done it a hundred times before, admittedly a long time ago, barely knowing one another as you scrounged from state to state. His shoulders are broad and solid against yours, and you trust him not to let you get hurt as you walk backwards into the room. He checks under every table and behind each of the rooms wrap around corners.

"Good?" you ask.

"Perfect. Alright, you can sit down if you want to."

"Are you joking?" you ask, following him to the counter. He pulls up the hinged counter and holds it up for you to sidle past him, your hips rubbing. "'Scuse me."

He laughs under his breath. You'd miss it if you didn't know how it sounds, a gentle puff of air.

"Knife?" he asks.

"Yep."

Steve kicks the door open with his foot. It's on a swivel, and he has to hold it open, bat extended, ready for a danger that doesn't present itself. He hits his bat against the door a few times to see if the noise will attract anything, but the building is officially empty of geeks.

Then, proof that it's your Steve, boyfriend Steve, the Steve who's kissed tears off of your cheeks, Steve who whispers gossip under the covers like you're teenagers at a slumber party, he turns from the swinging kitchen door and grabs you by the waist.

"Good work, team," he says, hugging you so hard your heels lift off of the tiled floor.

You let yourself squeak. "Hoh, you're getting strong again, H, might wanna lay off of the canned ravioli."

"No, I need to be tough to keep all the bachelors off of my girl."

Bachelors is the name he's started giving to geeks, on account of the tuxedo wearing one you encountered a few days ago. "What's that eligible bachelor doing?" he'd asked. You'd laughed loudly (potentially giving away your location to unfriendlies) and he'd been moody for an hour afterwards, though he did tell you, "Sorry, it's my bad for making a joke, I'm not mad at you."

He's like two people, sometimes. The Steve who got comfortable at The College, carefree and sweet, and the Steve who had to look after the two of you for months all by himself. And that's not fair to you to state it like that, you definitely weren't helpless, but you didn't have the survival skills he did. He could fight, for one, and he knew how to use a map, he had better stamina from years of sports and competitive track and swimming, while you were a slightly slovenly creature who'd never hurt anyone. You had no idea how to cave in a skull, and what's more, you didn't have the will.

He can't decide whether he needs to be on full alert or not.

It's hard to know what to say to him. He needs a life worth living, one where he isn't constantly anxious, but he won't have any life at all if he lets it too loose. You just want him to be happy.

"Steve?"

"What?"

"Did you have a favourite song?"

He's surprised. "Like, before?"

"Yeah." You step out of his space. He turns his head to keep eye contact with you but walks into the kitchen, bat still in front of him so he'll feel it if he's approached. "You liked Wham, right?"

"What gives you that idea?"

"You look like you liked Wham."

"Well, I didn't. I liked Blondie, and Bob Dylan, and Fleetwood Mac–"

"I thought you hate Blondie?" you ask.

"Who told you that, Robin?"

"Who else?"

The kitchen is dimly lit, not a whole lot of sunlight filtering through. You scrounge in your pockets for your tiny hand-pump flashlight and start squeezing it. The sound goes through Steve, but he likes being able to see. You point the light, he opens cabinet doors. The first is empty, weirdly. The second is full of plates, the third more plates, the fourth cups and a spider big enough to make you both flinch.

"I kind of liked Wham," he admits eventually. "That Wake Me Up song was catchy."

"Yeah?" You hum the first line, not quite singing. "Does anyone know the words after that?"

"Nope. Just do that bit again."

You do as he asks. He grins at you, and it feels like a prize.

The cabinets reveal nothing edible.

"Is there a pantry?" you ask, turning in a circle.

"If there is, you won't be going in there," he says.

One time he told you to look inside a walk-in freezer and you almost died. Disaster.

"That's fine by me," you say, running your finger across the top of an old sterling grill. There's grease stains in circles, like somebody could've made a burger on it yesterday. Artefacts of the past.

"Here," Steve says, kicking the bottom of a second door. "Pantry." He knocks against it with the baseball bat a few times and you both wait for something to stir.

Miraculously, nothing does.

He tries to pull it open but you're distracted, he has something in his hair. You lean up on your toes and turn his head down.

"What are you doing?"

"You have a leaf in your hair." You rake the leaf out of his hair.

It's like the fluff of downy feather, soft from a good scrub last night. Shampoo hardly ever spoils, and you can find it everywhere, in every house and every store. You get distracted, leaf discarded, and comb your fingers through his hair. It's mostly a selfish action, but you hope he feels loved.

"I know you got it out by now."

"It's soft…" You stroke his hair back out of his face. "Okay, done."

"Thanks," he says gently.

Steve guides you back with an arm and pulls open the pantry door. A bad smell comes with it, not the stink of festering garbage but the smell after, when every bit of freshness has been eaten. It's like methane. You frown and peer over Steve's shoulder at the state of the room. The majority of perishables are perished, boxes of what must've been lettuce and tomatoes crushed and dried like they'd been soggy at one point, a brown stain over the bottom. There are dead flies on every shelf.

But after some searching, you and Steve find what you'd been hoping to find; powdered eggs, canned corn, canned artichoke, condensed milk, a treasure of ingredients. It's enough to keep you both fed for a while, but when you take it back to the makeshift camp where you're staying it'll be split up between more than forty people —you and Steve have bought the camp a day.

You're happy to have found the food you needed but the situation still feels of questionable stability.

Steve heads back to the front of the diner for the wheelbarrow you'd brought along. This is the sticky part, because the world isn't as uninhabited as it looks, and the trek home will be one you spend weaving behind buildings and into alleyways, out of sight from the many tall buildings of the city you've encroached upon.

You load the cans into the wheelbarrow and look for can openers, knives, and batteries. You find the can openers and knives easily, but the battery front is lacklustre. You suppose there's no use for anything battery powered in a restaurant like this.

"This wouldn't be such a bad place to stay if the windows were so big. We could sleep on the booth seats, maybe trick the generator out back and turn on the grill."

Steve wipes his forehead and stations the wheelbarrow at the front entrance. "If the gas line worked. Why, what do you want grilled?"

"We could have grilled catfish," you suggest.

"Where are you gonna catch a catfish?"

"In the river."

"The only thing in that river is frogs and carp, babe."

"You don't mind carp."

"But you don't like frogs," he says, "stupid river." Steve looks back at the wheelbarrow of cans. "Alright, pick one."

"Steve, I can't."

"Yeah, you can. We risked our lives coming out here, so you get to choose something, and you get to eat it." Steve tries to sound light and unbothered by it, but the guilt that plagues you at the idea of eating something without sharing infects him too, even if he tries to bite it back. "Please. Everyone else doing these runs does the same thing, and Joyce knows that."

"But you don't want to," you say.

"I want you fed."

"And I want you to be able to live with yourself. I do think we deserve it," you admit. "Especially you. But I know you feel bad, thinking about the kids. We're sharers, Steve."

"We're sharers," he agrees, giving the wheelbarrow a nudge with his knee. "Too bad. I could eat that condensed milk with a spoon."

"Me too."

It doesn't take long to get back to the camp. It's stressful but uneventful, and soon you can hear the hushed whispering of the kids old enough to know they need to be quiet and the louder bells of kids too little to get it.

Robin bounds up from the ring around the smouldering fire and hugs you, then Steve. Jeremy, co-leader of the old community and second in command of the new, immediately delegates someone to note down what you've found and start rationing the evening meal.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks Robin, hands on her shoulders. He ignores the Well done thrown his way.

"I'm fine. You guys good?" she asks, scanning your two bodies.

You move from foot to foot on the packed earth and stone beneath. You're sore all over, and walking makes you tired. "We're perfect. I'm gonna go lie down."

"We'll come with you," Robin says.

Steve quickly seconds her suggestion. You move through the pitched tents until you come across the one shared by the three of you. On the floor is the only thing you had left, a single blanket you'd found in the woodland surrounding The College. It's rumpled and dirty, because your tent isn't a tent but a tarp on stilts, and the floor is grass and earth.

You duck your head and sit in the corner, pulling your shoes off of your hot feet and massaging your hurting toes. Your shoes don't fit. They're not really your shoes.

Steve comes in second and Robin third. There isn't enough room for all of you but you've made it work every night since you got here.

Steve grabs one of your ankles and pulls you with force toward him. You laugh weirdly —it's a great laugh, stuck in your throat, happy that he's touching you and exhausted from a long day— and end up flat on your back in your coat and stiff jeans. Steve takes off his coat and jacket, balling the jacket up into a vaguely pillow shaped blob to put under your head.

You grab his hand and squeeze it in a silent thank you.

Robin lies down beside you. She puts her head on your arm.

"I want to come next time," she says.

"Okay."

"I don't like being here without you guys."

"Okay, then you'll come," Steve says. "Did something happen?"

"It's just not worth it, even if I'm tired, you guys being gone is exhausting 'cos I'm constantly worrying you've–" She shrugs. "It wasn't as scary when you had guns and an entourage, but now the only thing between you guys and me never seeing you again is a baseball bat."

"A metal baseball bat."

"Whatever."

"You should come just so you see how not dangerous it is," you say.

"That's not true," Steve says.

"Was he being overprotective?" Robin asks you.

"Yes. He yelled at me for coughing at the top of the hill and he got all broody when we couldn't cut the padlock off with the bolt cutters for like, half an hour."

Steve pushes your pant leg up and starts to massage your calf. There's nothing but love in his touch, and you take it as an apology for his moody behaviour, even though it doesn't have to be one. He shouldn't say sorry for responding to insane pressure with unhappy emotions. He should, however, keep massaging you. It feels nice.

"Did he actually yell?" Robin asks, laughing.

"I'm still here," Steve reminds you both.

"Nah, just said, 'cover your mouth, dummy, these trees are full of geeks,'" you tell her.

"Did you really say that? The trees are full of geeks?" Robin asks, giggling still.

You laugh with her. Steve gets a funny look on his face, happy and sad for a split second. It disappears, and you know from the slope of his brows that he's going to make a bad joke.

"I didn't. I said the trees were full of bachelors," Steve says. "And that if they heard her pretty, dainty coughing they'd steal her away from me. She'd be a zombie bride."

"Can a cough be dainty?" Robin asks.

"You tell me," Steve says. "It sounded like this." He hacks like an old man, hunched over your feet in his lap.

You and Robin both boo.

"You don't think I have a nice cough?" he asks. "Come on."

Robin hides her face in your arm. "I've been away from society for so long that I'm starting to find his half-assed jokes funny."

You wiggle your feet in his lap.

"You wish you had my sense of humour," Steve says.

"Oh, hey, guess what Steve was singing for me earlier," you butt in. "Wham."

"Really?"

"Spirit of George Michael fell through him."

Steve really laughs at that one, clutching your leg to his chest. You smile, startled at his reaction, more when he pushes his hand under your knee and says, "Hey, are you saying I can't sing?"

"I'm sure I caught you on a bad day," you comfort.

He laughs more —Steve laughs so hard you think he might cry. It can't be that funny, you know you're not a comedian and never have been.

Robin picks up on it too.

He's had a long day, a longer week, and he's taut as a string pulled from one pole of the earth to the other. You sit up despite your protesting back and sling your arm around his shoulders. His laughing calms, and he goes deathly quiet.

"You wanna get some rest?" you murmur.

He closes his eyes. "Yeah."

Robin shuffles up. The three of you lie there for a while, and eventually he falls asleep. You and Robin chat in whispers until she ends up sleeping too. Without the distractions of TV and the radio, you can't blame them.

You turn away from Robin to stare at Steve as he sleeps, your hand stroking his forehead and his silky soft hairline.

When he wakes up later, he's feeling better. Things aren’t totally fixed, but he’s well enough to scold you for letting him sleep through the dinner bell.

"You didn't eat dinner?" he asks, somehow croaky and stern at the same time. "What's wrong with you? Get up, honey, we'll find you something to eat. Buckley, are you hungry? You girls will be the death of me, I swear."

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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poppitron360 · 6 months ago

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Ok so in another post I talked about all the reasons why Valzhang is better than Caleo, and I wanted to do one on Valgrace as well (lmk if this should become a series).

Bear in mind I am only on HoH- I haven’t read all of the Caleo bits yet, but I know she ain’t gonna treat him right.

I was originally SUPER sceptical about Valgrace (“I ship them platonically” “Jason is the Token Straight Friend”) and while I don’t think it was ever cannon I 100% THINK IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN.

Seriously, my eyes have been opened to Valgrace, to the point where the fanfic I’m writing about them currently clocks in at around 5,934 words.

I am OBSESSED. It is a PROBLEM.

And some of the fanarts/fanfics of them are SO CUTE I COULD DIE- it was hard NOT to ship them after reading some of y’all’s stuff. Keep up the good work.

Anyway buckle up ‘cause I’m ‘bouta write a whole dam essay on this.

1. The whole appeal of Jason Grace’s character is that he sees through your insecurities and lifts you up because he is too pure for this world. So narratively speaking, why is he with the most stable character? Yeah, Piper’s got issues, but compared to the others? She’s doing pretty well for herself. I mean, her parents are ALIVE!! Wouldn’t it just make more sense, narratively speaking, to put Jason with the MOST insecure character??? He can support Leo, help him in his arc, and it would give Jason a time to shine by highlighting his best qualities.

2. Throughout most of the books, Jason is the ONLY ONE who actually consistently sees through Leo’s mask. Everyone else’s POV of Leo is “Haha Leo said something funny and goofy and we’re all trying to be serious here, Leo. Gods, he’s soooo annoying!”, whereas Jason’s POV is like “Jason could see that Leo was desperately trying to keep it together for the good of the group, and he thought that was noble and brave and good and kind and awesome.” Like I said above, he’s able to lift Leo up because he sees him, and knows him. Something Calypso never did. There are several interactions, during TLH particularly, where Jason is just like “Hey, Leo? You are great. You are awesome. You have saved our lives multiple times. Whatever just went wrong, it wasn’t your fault. Stop beating yourself up about everything. You are a valued and respected member of this team. I love and appreciate you.” And Leo still puts up those walls with the jokes and the sarcastic remarks, and Jason is nothing but patient with him. Calypso was never like that.

3. I can’t find the line in the book, but there’s a bit in HoH where Jason’s worrying about the “To Storm or Fire, the World must fall” line in the prophecy, and he says words to the effect of “I like living, but I’d rather I die than Leo, anyway horses-” and seriously?? Rick missed a trick by not making them a couple. There is WAY more potential for angst if there’s that romantic feeling involved, knowing one of them is going to die, and both being willing to sacrifice themselves for one another like this is “Merchant of Venice” or something (I will explain the obscure Shakespeare reference in the comments). Calypso would never give up her LIFE for Leo, and Leo would only give up his because she’s hot.

4. Okay, most of this is copy-pasted from my post about Valzhang, but it still applies, and it applies to them maybe more so. They get so much more time together to establish a meaningful relationship. Their arc carries over all five books, and we get to form connections as a reader to them both, so the payoff is a lot more satisfying. Unlike Calypso, Jason is his own character separately, and not just an add-on to Leo’s arc. Their friendship is a key focus in their chapters, and a key point in their character development, as Jason is the first person Leo ever opens up to about his mom. When Calypso showed up, Leo had already gone through that journey of letting down those walls, so it was a lot less meaningful. They had little to no time to develop a relationship, and we never get a chance to care about Calypso as a person. She’s just kind of a plot point for Leo/Percy’s own development, and never her own character.

5. What separates Leo and Calypso from the other relationships in the series is that they were not written for each other. Frank and Hazel? Written for each other. Jason and Piper? Written for each other. Percy and Annabeth? FUCKING WRITTEN TO BE TOGETHER FOREVER. Cal was brought in during BoTL to cockblock Percabeth, and then Rick realised Leo “needed” a girlfriend, so picked her. But you know what two characters were written to be best friends right from the get-go? Like literally it’s established in the first couple pages of the first book? Jason and Leo. Much like how Valzhang were always meant to be rivals, Jason and Leo were always meant to be best friends.

6. Like I said in the last post, Leo doesn’t NEED a girlfriend. He can heal his trauma with friends and found family, learning to love and accept himself, learning that he doesn’t actually need the attention of a hot girl to be valid. Jason is the best person to help him on that journey, seeing as how his character thrives in uplifting others. The only person who ever loved Leo unconditionally died when he was eight. His blood relatives abandoned him, and he clearly wasn’t treated very well in the foster homes. He constantly feels like he has to work to prove he’s earned his place among the Seven because for him, family has never been a guarantee. Jason cares for Leo even when he’s fucked up, even when he’s a crying mess on the floor, even when he feels most like he doesn’t deserve to be cared for. Leo thinks he needs the attention of a hot girl to give him validation. What he really needs is to find a place among his brethren- and Jason offers him that place.

So, kids, that was it for today’s edition of “Why Literally Any Ship Is Better Than Caleo”. Tune in next time for our fav ✨trauma twinsies✨ Valdangelo!

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82mitsu · 6 months ago

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{18Trip} The Homescreen Voice Lines Vault

Collection of all the voice lines I have translated on my Twitter account. Uploading it on here for archival purposes.

Note: A lot of them were made to fit the Twitter character limit, sometimes they're a bit freestyled.

Mostly Raito oriented, with some others thrown in the mix.

Chihiro: Raiting, you spend a lot of time watching vids, don'tcha~ What channels got you hooked?

Raito: Let me see, channels all about information over ramen and the occult stuff like Muu☆Tan's are vital to me.

Raito: Kuguri, you can do what you want but, have you considered to stop sleeping naked from time to time? No doubt you'll catch a cold.

Kuguri: I'd prefer for you to leave me be. A certain Someone who can't properly wake up in the morning has no right to police others on how they sleep.

Raito: According to this scripture of taboos that I procured on my own, it appears that Pandora's Box will open up again soon. The theory of hope remaining at the bottom is plausible but, let's just wait and see...

Akuta: Uugh... I can't... I can't go on like this anymore.... Raito-san, please do the usual thing again tonight!!

Raito: A hopeless guy, aren't you... Got it, I'll take care of you. I will... feed you the best late night ramen that there is.

Netaro: Raito~! Trouble's afoot! There's hearsay of a unfamiliar flickering luminant body appearing behind the dormitory~!

Raito: What!? An unidentified flying object, in other words!? We must unravel its true identity! Let's go right away, Netaro!

Kuguri: Sometimes Nanaki looks at me cutely and pleads for advice on composing music. Well, my involvement is limited to hearing him out and giving a nudge, however.

Kuguri: I don't disagree with your way of living, Ten... It smells sweet, exclusively so. How about we go on a drive together again sometime.

Ten: Aha, it's an honor to get invited by someone like Kuguri-san~ I don't mind the kinda relations where you stay outta each others affairs either.

Chihiro: Geez~! Taotao, you play Anigun way too much! Didn't you like promise you'd go shopping with Chii today! And here I sat looking forward to it~!

Tao: Sorry. To think there'd be an event out of nowhere... I'll buy you some pudding as apology. So let's go shopping. Okay?

Akuta: Like, during flower viewing... adults do /that/, right... Y'know... the thing... s- s- s- strip rock paper scissors....!

"yakyuuken" is a Japanese game on based rock paper scissors, where the loser ends up stripping.

Akuta: Ten-san, I heard you talking to a woman on the phone earlier, but is she for real... wrapped around your finger!? Like both hands all over a beaut and...!

Ten: Aha, the hell man. Don't slander me. She's just a plain ol' friend. Maybe you're still too young for this though~?

Akuta: That freakin' Kiroku, he put a kinda bracelet that girls would wear in his desk. Ah, wonder if he's like also doing the do with her...

Ushio: Oi Stupidtake, record what I make all you want but don't snatch food while i'm not looking. You itching to get banned or something?

Akuta: Geh... got caught, huh... I regret my actions! Please spare me from being exiled! Oh great god from heavens above Ushio-samaaa~!

Nanaki: Kugunii, come over whenever you feel like it again. I'm sure Dad, Mom and Big Bro all are eager to see you.

Kuguri: Perhaps so. ...I'll go if the mood strikes me.

Nanaki: Spring is the season of encounters, huh... I already have crossed paths with my G.O.A.T though.

GOAT: Gen Z slang, means "Greatest Of All Time".

Ushio: Listen Murakumo-san, I know you're fooling around, but can you please refrain from putting any weird ideas into the younger guys' heads?

Ten: Oh-hoh~ look at you sounding all cool there. Dunno what you mean with "weird ideas" though.

Ushio: ....I curse the freaking guy who dared to use my shampoo without permission to go bald from losing 10 hairs every second...!

Ryui: Toi, your hair's sticking out. Here, sit still. I'll fix it to make it pretty.

Toi: Wah... Thank you dearest Big Bro. My beloved Big Bro really is the coolest in the whole wide world... My heart's skipping a beat...

Toi: A mature seductiveness like Yodaka-san's... How can i end up having that too? I'm jealous, you see.

Yodaka: Fufu, but Toi. Don't you have your own kind of charm that I lack. I admit I'm also envious on that front.

#18trip #823_tl #proper tags TBA

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purplehalnw · 7 months ago

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Okay so I, like many kids who read and loved PJO, found out that gay people existed because I read House of Hades. Tbh that memory has burned itself into my mind and I think about it constantly and so I just want to rant about it. So, here it goes:

I was twelve years old and was sitting in a brewery that my mom wanted to go to, reading a copy of HOH that I checked out from the school library. I got to the part where Zephyr (or whatever his name was) mentioned Apollo's and Hyacinth's myth right before the Cupid scene and I distinctly remember feeling really weird when I read that.

Obviously, I didn't know that two people of the same gender being in love was possible. Literally up to that point I thought that if two people of the same gender were married then they were just really good best friends 🤣. And also I think at that moment I assumed that if my parents didn't bother to tell me that two people of the same gender could be together then it must've been wrong or inappropriate or something. Literally my thought process during that whole sequence was "okay... That's weird.... I'll just ignore that and remember it as 'Apollo and Hyacinthia' instead" and to this day I still find it kinda funny.

So, yeah I just decided to put a pin in it for now and wait until I finished the book to decide whether to just completely ignore my discovery or to maybe do more research on my phone later.

But of course came the Cupid scene and oh my god let me tell you twelve-year-old me was shook. Literally eyes wide, jaw dropped, totally shocked. I think I was in shock for about three days after that.

I distinctly remember googling afterwards if Nico really did like Percy to see if what I just read was actually true and then I was looking for spoilers about whether Nico would later tell anyone else about it and what their reactions were. And it was this googling that made me discover the word "gay" as well as introducing me to fanfiction.

So, yeah it's nothing too crazy but idk this just had a great impact on me and I wanted to get it out.

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devondespresso · 9 months ago

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Mr. Crayola Henderson

T | 1791 words | ao3 link | cw: minor ableism from a side character, also they swear, I always forget f-bombs bother some people sorry guys | STWG Prompt: Telling a story to get out of trouble

EDIT: I NEARLY FORGOT thank you @pearynice my beloved for the brainstorming GENIUS and @hairstevington for the sensitivity read! You guys are awesome!! Also thank you @saradika-graphics for making free dividers!!

((little bit of context for extra clarity: this universe is vaguely canon divergent, post season 2. Steve is hoh (hard of hearing) and already adopted by the Hendersons, and in this one they're in the middle of a sort of family reunion/gathering))

Steve went to duck inside the house, holding the door open for Aunt Tracy on her way back out into the backyard where the majority of the gathering was taking place. She smiled and said something, probably just a thank you that he would’ve heard if the batteries in his hearing aids hadn’t died. He smiled back at her and gestured to his ear and she nodded again with a smile that did its best to not be patronizing.

She left and Steve went inside, sighing a little and tried to not hold it against her, the lack of filter seemed to run in the family, but it was moments like that that made him grateful his mom was the most laid-back of the Henderson women.

Steve went over to the media room and dug through the little bin of batteries under the phone, pulling out an opened pack that had just enough left. He took both aids off, changed the batteries, and put them back on to make sure they worked.

He heard a strong thud from his bedroom, followed by muttering.

Steve put the dead batteries down on top of the table and stared at his bedroom door. The muttering escalated to hushed bickering.

Steve walked closer to the door, hearing the bickering more clearly, then opened the door.

Dustin and their cousin Aiden both jumped and turned to look at the door, Dustin relaxing when he saw it was him. Steve paused for a second, looking at both of them crouched on the ground, bright pink paint on their hand and clothes and the carpet around them with no bottle in sight.

Steve leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at Dustin.

“We were just… snooping through your shit. ” Dustin said.

Steve glanced back down at the paint everywhere, and gave him a look.

Dustin just smiled like a little angel, which worked on mom and maybe Steve-from-two-years-ago, but not now.

“Oh no, you found my secret stash of… bubblegum pink paint.” he deadpanned.

“The cheap kiddy bubblegum pink paint.” Dustin corrected, looking down at the carpet. “It’ll wash out.”

“Of course.” He looked over to Aiden, who had relaxed significantly as he realized Steve wasn’t going to blow up on them. “And… why is there totally washable pink paint in my room specifically? Weren’t you guys sticking to dicking around outside to avoid doing stuff like this?”

Aiden opened his mouth to give a better excuse, but Dustin started tapping his shoulder excessively to get his attention.

“He’d help us.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, not arguing because odds were good he’d end up doing something, but he still played it up like he wasn’t already planning to.

Aiden was turned mostly towards Dustin and muttered something he couldn’t catch, throwing a glance at Steve.

“Trust me, this is like a walk in the park compared to–” Dustin said.

“Hardly a fair comparison, man.” Steve interrupted.

“–compared to the other shit he’s helped me with.”

Aiden thought about it, then glanced towards Steve. “And he's not going to jump ship afterwards and get us in trouble?”

“Of course not, right Steve?”

Steve looked at the two of them and ran a hand over his face.

“You know step one of not getting in trouble for stupid shit is not starting stupid shit, right?”

Aiden groaned but Dustin agreed immediately, “Yes, 100% understood.”

Dustin elbowed Aiden, and he nodded despite his clear annoyance.

Dustin smiled and looked at Steve.

He rubbed his temple one last time before throwing his hand down.

“Okay. Step two then.”

Dustin jumped up and shot him a thanks before running around him towards the kitchen. Steve watched him go then turned back to Aiden who looked just as confused.

“What’s he doing?”

“I don't know.” Aiden lied, looking at him curiously, “What's step two?”

“Find me and let me finish the stupid shit.”

“Huh.”

Dustin came running back with a slice of deli-meat in one hand.

“Dustin, this isn’t looking much better than last time.”

Dustin paused his mad dash for just a second to look at him.

“It’s significantly better, I swear.” he said, then ran to sit back down, dropping the slice of meat on the floor in front of him, and waited.

After a few seconds of nothing, a fuzzy little white face poked out from under his bed. Cautiously, a opossum with pink paint splashed on its back came waddling out. It sniffed at the food given to him, nibbled at it, then opened its mouth as wide as it could to awkwardly chomp at its new snack.

It was a wild animal, Dustin brought in a wild animal inside, during a family gathering with some of the most worry-wart mothers he’s ever met–

But god, the tiny opossum was really fucking cute.

Dustin beamed at the little guy like a proud mom, then up at Steve. Steve shook his head in disbelief and joined them carefully around the opossum. He picked up the deli meat and placing it on his hand to get the little guy used to it.

“You’re crazy, Henderson, you’re fucking crazy.” He grumbled, playing up annoyance to avoid losing his better judgment.

Dustin said something probably cheeky as hell, but he didn’t catch it.

“One more time.” he said, looking away from the opossum for just a second.

“And what does that make you, Henderson?” Dustin smiled, definitely cheeky.

“Reluctantly, also fucking crazy.” he sighed, shaking his head before moving the deli meat further up his hand to lead little Mr. Opossum onto it.

He lifted Opossum gently, letting it have the rest of the deli meat so he could use two hands to hold it steady. He stood up slowly, and started walking towards the bathroom.

Dustin and Aiden went around him to get the door, lights, and sink ready– apparently, to continue where they left off. There were pink handprints around the edge of the sink and a bottle of dish soap sat next to the hand soap.

“Wow, I wonder what happened here.” Steve deadpanned. He looked over at the both of them, not a hint of guilt in their eyes. “And this is why there aren’t two Dustin Hendersons.” he bitched with no real anger, and set Mr. Opossum down gently in the sink.

“You mean this is why there aren’t two Aiden Haults.” Aiden said, leaning over the sink.

“Nope, Dustin gets the credit for this one.”

Steve closed the drain to make a pool of water and Opossum gravitated to it immediately, taking a drink before waddling into the pool and almost rolling in the water to get his fur wet.

Steve tried and failed to bite back a smile.

“His name is Sir Crayolan.” Dustin said.

Steve had no choice but to bark out a laugh.

“Sir what?”

“Sir Crayolan.”

“Oh god, I heard you correctly.”

“It’s a great name!”

“You know Sir Crayolan isn't staying, right?”

“Yeah, we were gonna let him go after we washed him, we just–”

Aiden muttered something and tugged on his sleeve, pointing out the bathroom doorway towards the back door.

Just out of the window, Aunt Tracy was caught in conversation with someone, looking like she was laughing, but clearly stopped just before she was going to come inside. Steve quickly rinsed some of the minimal paint on his fingers, careful not to scare Mr. Crayola or whatever.

“Does she know you’re in here?”

“No, we hid in your room–”

“Good, you guys wash him, carefully and quietly, I’ve got the rest.” He whispered, wiping his hands off on a towel.

“You’re the best, Steve.” Dustin said, giving him a quick side hug to avoid getting paint on him.

“Oh really? I’m gonna need that in writing.” He smiled and Dustin stuck out his tongue. Steve returned the gesture and slipped out of the bathroom, straight across the hall and into his bedroom.

He turned off the lights immediately to hide the pink mess on his floor and waited to hear the front door.

He heard Aunt Tracy’s laughing rather than the actual door open, heard her wave off whoever it was she was talking to through the door. He took one hearing aid off before he walked out of his room, closing the door behind him. He made his way back to the abandoned dead batteries and put his aid back on, messing with it a little longer than strictly necessary.

“Oh, Steve, there you are. Everything okay?” she said, joining him by the tv room.

“Yeah, just had to find batteries. What’s up?”

“Oh yes, well– now, I know I could be overreacting, but I haven’t seen Aiden anywhere for– oh, for god knows how long–”

“He was with Dustin earlier–”

“I know, I know, but they were near those woods weren’t they? And you know there were those missing kids stories–”

“Trust me, I know.” he said, dropping the dead batteries into their battery jar. “I can help you search for them if you want, but I don’t think Dustin’s ever gotten lost. He carries around a compass like it's his wallet. Worst case scenario? They’re messing around in the woods somewhere a little too far away and they’ll come running back once they realize we started eating hotdogs without them.”

“God, you know Claudia said the same thing, I just worry…”

“Ron just lit the grill, right? Let’s give them twenty minutes,” he checked his watch, “Until five… five fifteen-ish. If nobody sees them, I’ll help you look.”

“Twenty minutes, alright, I’ll tell Claudia.” She said, and circled back to the door.

“I’ll join you guys in a second, I’m grabbing a coke.” he called, jutting a thumb back towards the kitchen.

She called something back with a wave and Steve just waved back until she disappeared out the door. He walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a cold can for himself and a diet pepsi for mom, then circled back to the bathroom.

He checked over his shoulder once real quick before tapping on the door and opening his coke.

Aiden answered the door, cracking it open just enough to stand in the doorway.

“You got all that, yeah?”

“Twenty minutes, we’ve been exploring in the woods.”

“Yup. Release your critter out the front door and circle around. I am not joining a search party for you guys today.”

Aiden nodded and gave him an overserious salute. Steve threw a more casual one back.

“Tell Mr. Crayola I said ‘bye’.” he said, then turned around to leave as Dustin came to the opossum’s defense. He hid his smile by taking a sip of his coke, and went back out the door.

(obligatory disclaimer uhhh dont pick up wild opossums please ok thanks guys love ya)

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #steve and dustin #hoh steve harrington #hoh!steve #hoh!steve harrington #steve henderson au #been a while since ive used that tag straight up hfdklashfhdl #ive kinda recently realized that my steve henderson au's like. origin-story part? was spanning a lot longer than i thought #and odds are i wont be able to exhaust every possible shenanigan these brothers could get in to #so starts the not-really-the-same-universe-but-like-also-kinda-close steve henderson au hfsdjklafhdkl #stwgdailyprompt #devon's writings

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lessystuff · 2 months ago

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Minerva Mystic

Traits: Loves the Outdoors, Active, Loyal

Extras: She comes from The Occult Baby Challenge

She is HOH (Hard of hearing) from her left ear

She is the third oldest of 8 siblings at the moment

Being born in a big family full of supernaturals made her touch with magic always easy for her, but the time to experiment was always cut short taking care of her younger siblings, she being the third eldest. She like taking care of them but what she loves the most is gardening, it started in her childhood and to see the little seeds grow into full on trees bring joy into her young mature heart.

Minerva tends to deal with her stress with exercise, having supernatural siblings of different species made the environment of her childhood/teenage years a little challenging but it removed prejudices that many supernaturals have among themselves.

It was after most of her siblings were big enough to take care by themselves that her mother asked about her aspirations, her mother knew that magic always was calling her but her siblings also needed that help on those early years discovering themselves, it made her sad to see one her eldest child mature so quickly but know she could enjoy her passion. With a crushing hug from her mom and numerous yelled childlike farewells, Minerva entered the Magic Realm, committed to work her hardest, even entering a Tournament.

CC:

Skin Detail / Eyelashes / Eyes / Hair / Witch Hat

EA ID to Download: lessathxi

She is free to download, I only used that CC on her, the rest of her outfits are enterely from EA :)

You can also take off her hat sometimes if it brings problems to see her face on screenshots

The moment I saw this challenge in my wild search I just jumped of excitement! The Ember Academy Spellcaster Tournament from @adelarsims itches my love for occult Sims and it gave me the opportunity to give a makeover to this girl. I hope y'all love her, as I say she is free to download :>

#ts4 #ts4 cas #create a sim #sim submission #show us your sims #simblr #occult sims #realm of magic #morgyn’s spellcasting tournament #the sims 4

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 8 months ago

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lover - p. parker

a/n: hi guys so sorry it's been a while i meant to finish this a million times and im still not thrilled with the ending but oh well! i want to make a quick note that as someone whose hard of hearing i am aware that being hoh/deaf has a lot of rheotric around it and there's a lot of positive associations with being hoh/deaf but reader in this fic is not always happy with being hoh because being deaf/hoh has a LOT of complciated emotions associated with it! just keep that in mind as we go forward. warnings: hoh!reader, cursing probably, suggestive behaviors, lots of kissing, lots of fluff, a poorly written ending, gn!reader, reader having a lot of complex emotions about their hearing, talks of weddings, and reader has a mom and a step dad who love them. AUTISTIC PETER BTW ITS ONLY MENTIONED ONCE BUT IT IS IMPORTANT TO ME word count: 4.0k summary: peter parker is quite literally the most amazing boyfriend ever. even when you realize you're hard of hearing. pairing: tasm!peter parker x hoh!reader now playing: lover - taylor swift "my heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue/all's well that ends well to end up with you/swear to be over-dramatic and true to my/lover"

Going to the grocery store is a nightmare.

Especially when you go on a Saturday in New York City, on a relatively nice day out.

You’re pushing the cart through the grocery store, trying to focus on what’s right in front of you as Peter comes up behind you, placing a box of cinnamon toast crunch in the bag before you check it off your list.

This is your system—Peter runs around grabbing your assorted groceries for the next two weeks as you check it off the list, then there is two people making sure you have all your groceries. This pretty much eliminates the possibility of having to run out to the store during the week.

And usually, you do this very early on Sunday mornings—Like, you and Peter are the first patrons at the store.

But you’re out of just a few things that are essential—Toothpaste, Milk, coffee—You pretty much just decided to get it out of the way for the next two weeks.

The problem now, is that you’re in this crowded store, full of people talking, machines beeping and carts wheeling.. You’re struggling to focus. That’s what you pass it off as, at least.

Peter’s hand lands gently on your arm as he says your name gently.

“Huh?” You tilt your head to look at him.

“I just wanted to know what was next on the list.” He smiles at you. You glance down at the list,

“Uh, Bread.” You tell him, planning on making grilled cheese and tomato soup for dinner.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” He hums, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You smile softly. You’re not the biggest fan of PDA but Peter can recognize when you’re feeling upset and just need a reminder of your worth.

A few minutes later, as you’re struggling to ground yourself in the middle of this Trader Joe’s, Peter spooks you when he comes up behind you, his hand resting on your upper arm.

“Fucking Christ—” You gasped, “You terrified me!”

“I’m sorry, Baby.” He says gently. “I called your name a few times, was yapping all the way down the aisle.”

“Oh..” Your face softens. You don’t really know how to say all the things you’re feeling.

“Hey, I’ll—I’ll finish up here, how bout you step outside for a few minutes? Wait for me by the carts?”

Your list is almost finished up so you nod, smiling gently before leaving the grocery store, finally getting some peace and quiet. You lean against the wall of the grocery store, watching people pass the grocery store. About twenty minutes later, Peter walks out of the grocery store, holding your grocery bags. He hands you two bags but carries about four. Your boyfriend is Spider-man, and as much as you hate taking advantage of that.. You can’t’ deny how nice his strength is for situations like this.

He shifts the bags around to pull two candy bars out of his pocket—

A Snickers for him, and a standard Hershey bar for you.

You eat your candy as you make the short trip home, not saying much. The candy bar helps, but this looming truth lingers in the air, and you don’t want to be the one to say anything about it. So the pair of you make your way into the apartment, putting away your groceries wordlessly. But in the quiet of your apartment, you stop, suddenly plagued with a new trouble.

“My ears are ringing.”

“What?” It’s not something he’s asking because he did not hear you, but the statement catches him off guard.

“My ears are ringing.” You repeat. He gently takes the oranges out of your hands, scared that you might dig your fingers into them and destroy them half an hour after he picked them out.

“Okay,” he says softly, putting them to the side. “Why don’t you go sit down in the living room while I make some tea and put the groceries away?” He gently prods. Too busy wanting to literally claw off your own ears, you nod and head over to your couch.

Peter’s by your side a few minutes later with a mug of tea on the coffee table. However, it goes quickly forgotten as you climb on top of him, cuddling into him. His hands rub your back gently. You sit like this for a while, until he decides to ask—

“How long have you had trouble with your hearing?” His voice is soft. You reflect for a little while, before responding with a soft,

“A long time, now..” You remember being a teenager and having trouble hearing your friends in the lunchroom and lectures being a nightmare during college. “I think I’ve been just ignoring it for a few years..”

He had a feeling that’s what your answer would have been—you’re rather in tune with yourself, and something like this would’ve been something you picked up on a long time ago. But he doesn’t blame you for ignoring something like this.

“You know we should probably go to an audiologist, right?” He asks.

“Yeah, I know..” You sigh, cuddling into him further, as if you can hide away from the entire world.

“I’ll take you,” he says gently, not wanting you to worry about going alone or being anxious. You’ll be anxious anyways, but maybe he could help. And he will help, his fingers always brushing against your skin, making sure you remember that he’s there and not going anywhere. It’s the best way he can help-- By making sure you’re not alone.

“Thanks..” Your voice breaks, and he frowns, his hand coming to find your cheek, pulling you into his view. The sight of you crying makes his heart squeeze.

“What’s the matter, baby?” He asks softly, his thumb wiping your tears.

“I don’t..” You bite your lip, trying to form the words. You’re not an idiot. You have done some research on Deaf culture. You knew that it was an enhancement, something to be proud of. And that was phenomenal—You had done a lot of courses in college on disability rhetoric, and you knew how important it was to reinforce positive associations with disabilities, as well as the fact that most deaf and hard of hearing people did not consider themselves disabled.

And all that pride lived inside of you—But you couldn’t help your struggle about the subject. It would take time to adjust to, and Peter.. Peter deserved an easy life. He was Spider-Man for Christ’s sake!

“I don’t want you to have to worry about me if it turns out I do have trouble hearing. I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

He frowns at this, tilting his head.

“Hey,” he tilts his head, looking at you with admiration. “Did you know when I was adopted by my aunt and uncle they told them I would be a challenge to raise? That my autism and lack of social skills would make me.. harder to love..?”

“You’re not hard to love.” You immediately say, and he smiles.

“I know. My aunt and uncle proved that to me, they went into raising me knowing that I would just have different struggles as other kids my age. Even if you are heard of hearing or deaf—You’re not hard to love. You just have different experiences and struggles from other people our age. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want every part of that journey.” He leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead. It makes you smile a bit. “Now, no more tears. Let’s watch a movie, and we’ll start our research tomorrow, okay?” He hums.

You nod and grab the throw blanket behind him, pulling it across the pair of you as he grabs the remote and turns on your favorite movie. His hands stay on you, rubbing comforting patterns into your skin.

He turns the subtitles on without you asking.

• • •

The audiologist office has lights that are too bright. You and Peter sit side by side, as you look around at the other patients. Your chest tightens as you realize you are surrounded by people in their 70’s and 80’s—Except for you, a twenty something year old, a young boy, around seven, and a teenage girl. You all share similar looks of discomfort, but in your anxiety, you notice that there’s a sense of.. familiarity in seeing people your age here.

You decide to put a pin in your thoughts, as Peter’s hand finds your thigh, and you glance back over to him. In the past two weeks, He’s been giving more physical cues to get your attention, a small way he’s trying to make you feel more comfortable.

“Stop bouncing your leg,” he says softly, “You’re just working yourself up.” He says gently. You nod, and then your name is called, so you gather your things, and before you go, Peter grabs your wrist, before throwing up the sign in ASL for ‘I love you’. You grin and throw it back, before following the nurse into the back.

Peter waits, for around half an hour, making sure not to draw too much attention to himself. He makes pleasant conversation with two of the older ladies who are there, after finding out that they all grew up in Queens.

After that half hour, you come back out of the back rooms of the office, and Peter grins at you as he says a quick, respectful goodbye to the two older women, before handing you your jacket.

The pair of you stay quiet until you’re out of the office, and only when you’re a few steps away does he slip his jacket on before asking,

“How’d it go?” And with this, he clumsily signs along. The pair of you have been practicing ASL—Short phrases here and there.

You hesitate for an answer, going into your bag and fishing out a small ASL dictionary. Inside, in his sort of messy handwriting, Peter has written you a note that you take a glance at every time you open it. It reads, ‘Don’t forget I love you’, and it never fails to make you smile.

Another challenge you’ve been facing in your journey to learn ASL is your facial expressions—You’ve never been good at properly matching your face to your emotions or words, so it’s been a struggle.

“Fine,” You speak and sign. Then you pause. “Actually, not fine.” You sign, and then you drop the signing, because you’re only a beginner. “It’s sort of what we expected—My hearing is.. bad, and will probably get worse as I age.” His hand finds yours.

“Okay.. What did he say about hearing aids?”

“That If I felt like I needed them to schedule a follow-up.” You tell him. “But they’re expensive and I’ll need to do research to see what sort of health insurance coverage I have.”

He nods gently, his thumb rubbing your knuckles gently.

“Well, we’re gonna cross that bridge when we get there, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He throws up the sign for ‘I love you’. You throw it back. And it might seem stupid, but every time Peter holds up that sign, your heart melts a little bit. Maybe it’s a low bar or something like that—And it’s true. But Peter is learning a whole new language for the sake of making sure you’re comfortable and for your comfort. No one has ever done anything close to that for you.

• • •

Peter has become in tune with your body. Which is a weird way to say it, but it’s true. Those heightened senses of his come in handy, and mostly, he watches for tension in your shoulders and your jaw, perfect indicators that your ears hurt.

Usually, it’s this painful ringing, and usually, Peter just tries to make you as cozy as possible while you ride that out.

But tonight, you’re at a family party, celebrating your sister’s birthday. She’s getting married in a few months, and she’s been so busy with that you haven’t seen a lot of her. Peter holds your gift for her in one hand, and your hand in his with the other.

The party goes well for the most part, you’re just relaxing and hanging out with your family. It’s a nice party, and you’re grateful for your entire family. Your mom holds your nephew in her lap, your sister laughs with your aunts and her fiancé, and your brother and uncle are yapping about some football game.

You, Peter, and your stepdad stand in the kitchen, talking about all sorts of things. Your sister’s wedding, the cruise he just took your mom on, Peter’s recent promotion, and of course..

“Have you considered hearing aids?” Your stepdad asks.

“Yeah, they’re just.. expensive.” You laugh, nervously.

Your stepdad gently taps his own ears, “Well, you’d be part of an elite club.” He grins.

You roll your eyes playfully, before your attention is grabbed by a tugging on the leg of your pants. You glance down, and see your young nephew, gazing up at you with wide eyes.

“What can I do for you, little man?” You ask, a hand coming up to brush hair from his face. He says something you can’t quite make out, so you put your drink on the counter and crouch down to hear him properly, tapping right below your ear, “One more time, bud.”

“Can Peter come play?” He asks, still a little shy around the man you’ve been dating for a while now. You grin and nod,

“Of course he can.” You glance up to Peter, then to your nephew. “What do you wanna play?”

“Dinosaurs.” He requests. So, you pick him up and turn to Peter.

“Peter, our friend here would like to play dinosaurs with you.” You grin.

The way your hair falls into place, the way you hold your nephew close, the way your smile pinches your eyes together.. Peter wishes he could freeze this moment forever because you look perfect.

“Dinosaurs?” he repeats, before grabbing your nephew from you, and then positioning him so that he’s riding on Peter’s back. “Dude, I love dinosaurs!” that’s the last thing you can make out as Peter carries him off to the living room to play dinosaurs. You watch with an affectionate smile, taking small sips of your drink.

“So… Nice kid..” Your mom says as she walks into the kitchen.

You assume she’s talking about your nephew, so you shrug, “He is a good kid.”

“No, I’m talking about Peter.” Your face flushes as you realize where this is going.

“What about Peter?” You hum, looking over to her.

“I’m just saying, I think—”

“You two are gross together.” Your stepdad chimes in, but there’s no malice behind his comment. In fact, you only laugh because it’s something you used to say to them when they started dating.

“Yeah, I know,” You hum. “I really love him.” You confess, before shrugging.

“You know, with your sister’s wedding coming up, I’ve been thinking a lot about—” Your face flushes, as you finish your drink.

“When Peter and I are ready to get married, you two will be the first to know.”

“Oh, so you do wanna marry him.” Your mom smiles. Your face is warmer now.

“I’m gonna go mingle, you two should try minding your own business.”

You find Peter rather quickly, and he just smirks at you, before signing, ‘Talking about marriage?’

You roll your eyes, signing back, ‘Shut up.’ He just puckers his lips and blows a kiss at you. He wants to marry you too.

• • •

After dinner and cake, you sit in your old bedroom, rubbing your ears as you try and come up with an excuse to leave.

Peter finds you a few minutes later and sits next to you on your bed. You lean into him, your eyes heavy from dealing with the ringing you’ve been dealing with.

He gently prompts you to pick your head up before signing, ‘Ringing again?’

You just nod.

“Pete, I wanna go home.” You tell him. Your brother and nephew left a little while ago, and downstairs, your aunts and uncles are getting ready to head home.

“I know, baby. Let’s get you home.” He hums softly. He gently rubs his hand up and down your arm, before pressing a sweet kiss to your neck. Then, one at the base of your ear.

• • •

A few days later, you’re just doing chores around the apartment when your phone buzzes. When you take a minute to glance at it, you find yourself grinning.

It’s the link to an article, sent to you by your mom—Besides Peter, she has been the greatest support through your journey in figuring out you’re hearing. And she knows you have a bias towards Spider-man as far as vigilantes go (wonder why).

The link leads you to a photo of Spider-man, who is swinging across the city, holding up the sign for ‘I love you’. A grin breaks out on your face, just in time for Peter to crawl back into the apartment.

You find him with his mask off as he starts to calm down from a long day, and before he can do much else, you make your way over to him and pull him in for a long kiss.

He hums, his hands finding your waist as your arms wrap around his neck. When you pull away he grins.

“Hi.” He hums.

“Hey..” you smile. “I didn’t know Spider-man knew sign language,” You tease, and he just laughs, a light pink dusting of blush across his cheeks.

“He knows it for you.”

“For me?”

“For you, baby,” he leans in and kisses you gently. His hands begin to travel from your waist to the hem of your shirt, and then up, resting his gloved fingers against the skin of your sides.

• • •

Your hearing aids come in just in time for your sister’s wedding.

You pick them up and hold them in your hands as you go back and forth, worrying. Worrying about Peter not liking them, worrying about breaking them, worrying about everything, really.

But you stand in front of the mirror, and put them on carefully, before turning them on. You take a moment to adjust to how certain sounds are now. The drip of the faucet is more pronounced, and the sounds don’t just melt together like they usually do.

You can even hear Peter shuffling around outside, giving you as much time as you need to process the look and feel of them. When you finally step out, you’re nervous, and he must be able to tell.

“Look at you,” he grins, peering at the hearing aids. “Can we get a spin?” You immediately let out a nervous giggle, and then do a little twirl for him, and he just laughs and claps.

“You like them?” You ask nervously, and he nods.

“Absolutely.” He tells you. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to the side of your head, right next to your hearing aids. “I have something for you.” he tells you, before handing you a small black box. For a moment, you freak out. He probably senses the panic and shakes his head, “Just open it.”

You do, and when you realize what you’re looking at, your heart absolutely melts. It’s a gold star earing that has a chain that hooks onto your hearing aid, and another chain with more star pendants that dangle. It’s gorgeous, and you wonder what you did to deserve him. You lean in and kiss him gently.

“Thank you.” You say softly, and he can tell you’re going to get emotional, so he kisses you again.

“I think you look very pretty.” He hums, “Complete.” You grin and lean in for another kiss.

You’re beginning to feel it, too.

• • •

The morning of your sister’s wedding, you’re texting Peter as your sister gets her makeup done. You’re pretty much all ready, you’re just inclined to stay with her until she needs you.

‘Bug Boy