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its-f4nf4n-again · 3 years ago

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howdy.

I’m f4nf4n. If you know that name (you probably don’t), it’s likely from AO3. I am a fan of anime & manga who occasionally writes fanfiction.

I’ve been here before & have no idea how active I’ll be. TBH, I have a very loveneed/hate relationship with social media, but I missed looking at fanart, lol, so I’m back for now.

Links to my fics exist below the cut, should you find yourself so inclined.

Thanks for reading if ya do. Take care of yourselves out there. <3

Ongoing Multi-Chapter Fics

Naruto

To Answer the Call - Rated M, Kakashi Hatake/OFC, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Long Fic (100k+), Implied Sexual Content Part 5 of The Tale of the Dancing Cranes

The attack of the Nine-Tailed Fox drastically altered the trajectory of Saya’s life. Years later, a seemingly innocuous visit from a comrade may have just as great an impact on her future.

Boku no Hero Academia

As Walls Keep Shifting - Rated M, Izuku Midoriya/Ochaco Uraraka, Katsuki Bakugo/Eijirou Kirishima, Alternate Universe - Horror/Supernatural, TW Body Horror, TW Psychological Horror, TW Depictions of Violence, TW Depression, TW Suicide Attempt

Amidst a grove of cedar trees stands a big, old house. Wildflowers bloom beneath the eaves each spring, a colorful drapery; but summer sun beats down ‘til the wood cracks and bleeds, so the shutters and shingles / must be repainted every fall. As winter days shorten and the sky fades to grey, something stirs beneath the shadows in the hall.

Completed Multi-Chapter Fics and One-Shots

Naruto

Harvest Moon - Rated T, Sakumo Hatake/OFC, canon typical violence, pregnancy, canonical character death Part 1 of The Tale of the Dancing Cranes

There is calm in even the fiercest storm, and Takane finds it in Sakumo.

Lamentations - Rated T, Minato Namikaze-centric, canon typical violence, canonical tpical death Part 2 of The Tale of the Dancing Cranes

Minato Namikaze has some regrets.

Redolence - Rated M, Kakashi Hatake-centric, canonical character death, grief/mourning, suicide Part 3 of The Tale of the Dancing Cranes

Kakashi Hatake cleans his house.

Echoes in Solitude - Rated T, OC-centric backstory Part 4 of The Tale of the Dancing Cranes

Like many of her fellow shinobi, Saya Tsunematsu's life has been shaped by loss. It takes a long time, but eventually, she realizes it is how she moves beyond those losses that really matters.

Boku no Hero Academia

Fingerprints - Rated G, Shouta Aizawa & Thirteen

A troublesome quirk. A simple request. An awkward favor.

Gravitational Constant - Rated T, Izuku MIdoriya/Ochaco Uraraka, Minor Manga Spoilers, Pre-Chapter 306

Every object in the Universe exerts its own gravitational force. As a principle of physics, your gravitational attraction is proportional to your size, and most people–even BMI Hero Fat Gum–aren’t massive enough to exert much force at all. Still, we are each constantly drawing others into our orbit, even if our individual energy isn’t very powerful. But what if someone’s pull is so strong you can’t escape it?

Green Tea Excerpts (IzuOcha Week 2021 Prompt One-Shots) - Rated T, Izuku Midoriya/Ochaco Uraraka, Alternate Universe-Various, Minor Manga Spoilers, Pre-Chapter 306

Unstoppable / Perfect Union (Modern/Quirkless AU)

Dreamscape / Nightmare (Soulmate-if-you-squint AU)

Wooden / Mirror (Fantasy AU)

Luck / Risk (Modern/Quirkless AU)

Touch / Stare (Not an AU, just at UA!)

Silver / Sparkle (Circus AU)

Wander / Adventure (Sci-Fi/Futuristic AU)

Lost / Found (Aged-Up/Pro Heroes)

Fierce Love - Rated T, Minor Manga Spoilers, Inko Midoriya-centric, TW Limb Loss, Pre-Chapter 306

Inko Midoriya believed a father’s goodness should be taller than a mountain and a mother’s love should run deeper than the ocean. For her son Izuku, Inko realized she would need to be both and more. So she grew tall and dove deep. She learned to be patient and devoted. She steeled herself until she was stoic and strong. And she prepared to have her heart broken.

The Divination Series - Rated G/T, MAJOR Manga Spoilers, Post-Chapter 306

Tasseography - Four times Ochaco Uraraka made tea.

Astromancy - Izuku Midoriya taks a much needed rest and gazes up at the stars.

Pyroscopy - Pull the pin. Aim at the base. Squeeze the trigger. Sweep side-to-side. (Katsuki Bakugo)

Ailuromancy - Shouta Aizawa returns home.

Dririmancy - Promises are broken and secrets kept. The weight of the world is too heavy to bear, but still it must be shouldered. (Toshinori Yagi)

Abacumancy - For the first time in many years, Tenko Shimura is afraid.

Valor in Calamity - Rated M, MAJOR Manga Spoilers, IzuOcha Hurt/Comfort Week Submission, Post-Chapter 306, Izuku Midoriya/Ochaco Uraraka, TW Depression, TW Limb Loss, TW PTSD, TW Character Death

Izuku Midoriya grieves what he’s lost. Deku defends an uncertain future. Uravity grapples with the aftermath. Ochaco Uraraka nurtures an ever-diminishing spark of hope.

That Place You’re Searching For, I Know You’ll Find (Because the Stars Are on Your Side) - Rated T, IzuOcha Temple 4th Anniversary Masquerade Event Submission, Bittersweet Ending

Izuku’s expression is sincere when he presses his lips to her cheek, pulling away with an exaggerated smack that makes Ochako giggle. “Dummy,” she says, and he nuzzles his face against her cheek hard, as if he’s trying to scrub the freckles from his skin and transfer them to hers. “Your dummy,” he whispers, green eyes sparkling with amusement. It’s true.

The Mother & the Maiden - Rated G, MAJOR Manga Spoilers (up to chapter 323), Inko Midoriya-centric

True love is selfless. It might be patient or kind, but it is also strong; prepared to sacrifice, to protect and defend. To fight like hell when required.

Escape Velocity - Rated E, Angst, Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Izuocha Smut Week 2021

Escape velocity; the minimum speed needed for a free, non-propelled object to escape from the gravitational influence of a massive body, that is, to eventually reach an infinite distance from it.

What Dreams Will Come (IzuOcha Week 2022) - Rated M, CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS, Izuku Midoriya/Ochaco Uraraka, Canon Divergent

The future is not fixed. But even within the unevenly splintering depths of eternity, some fundamental answers remain the same. The Earth is round. The sky is mostly blue. Deku is always a Hero. Everything else is tenuous at best—the rest of the story can change in an instant.

Weight - Rated M, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, Whumptober Prompts Crush Injuries/Force, Angst, Hurt No Comfort

In the end, it is gravity that betrays her.

Simple Syrup - Rated T for exactly one chapter, Semi-Related One-Shots, All Quite Short, IzuOcha Fluff Week 2021

The life of a Pro Hero can be complicated, but with the right partner at your side, Ochaco and Izuku know some things are simple. The way they rest their head against your shoulder after a long shift or make your favorite meal on your day off. The softness of their hair between your fingers or the reassuring sound of their quiet snoring. Even for busy Pros Deku and Uravity, life is pretty sweet. As long as they have each other.

Chasing Sunrise - Rated T for grief/mourning, dementia, major illness, hurt no comfort, Izuku Midoriya, Toshinori Yagi, Ochaco Uraraka, Inko Midoriya

Getting old is supposed to be a privilege, so why does this feel more like a curse?

Beneath the Tea Leaves - Rated T for minor character death

Children are told from an age too young to recall not to wander into Yuuei Forest alone. There is magic in these woods, and not all of it is kind to visitors. There are tricksters in the trees, strange voices babbling in brooks. A pretty woman sleeping in the moss, wreathed by pink flowers.

Cowboy Bebop

Cowboy Philosophers - Rated G, No Warnings

The four members of the Bebop crew answer one question: “What would you do if it was your last night alive?”

Into the Void - Rated T, Whumptober Prompts Scars/Recovery/Aftermath, Whump, Angst, Swearing

In the wake of loss, the Bebop is too quiet.

Justified

The Kentucky Wildflowers Series - Rated M, Timothy Gutterson/OFC, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Past Rape/Non-Con

In the Fields of Solidago - Being the best marksman in Kentucky has its pitfalls, like being loaned out to every state or federal agency in the tri-state area in need of a dead-shot sniper. When just such an arrangement is made, Tim Gutterson finds himself pulled into a case that has nothing to do with his job, but everything to do with his humanity.

A Spider in the Bluebells - Tim Gutterson had always considered himself a rational man. But the latest case on his desk has forced him to uncomfortably assess his fundamental understanding of right and wrong; good and evil. It made him feel anything but sensible. As a Deputy U.S. Marshal, does it matter whether the fugitive you’re hunting is truly guilty? Should it?

Thorn & Thistle - Introspective companion pieces from Kathryn Geller’s POV.

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softspeirs · 4 years ago

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Clouds Overhead

Pairing: Bill “Hoosier” Smith x Female OC (Could be read as reader insert or as an unnamed OFC) Rating: PG-13 to be safe: mentions of war typical violence and PTSD. Summary: In Melbourne, Hoosier finds you, and you both find some peace. Author’s Note: I haven’t written for Hoosier before, but I have written a Tim Gutterson series before, so I’m pulling on elements of that to help with this. *shrugs* Disclaimer: As always, this is based on Jacob Pitts’ portrayal in The Pacific, and not on the real man. No disrespect is intended. I don’t own HBO or The Pacific. Lyrics inset are from Making April’s “These are the Nights” which I also don’t own.

So divine is this happening Can't I just graze your skin For the rest of our time But time isn't letting this night go on

Bill sleeps for almost the entire day while his friends are out reveling in their freedom.

When he finally wakes, the moon is up, and he takes a minute to be grateful for the fact that for once, a full moon doesn’t mean a night of shelling and almost certain death. For once, he can enjoy it.

Or, he could, if there wasn’t someone right in his view. A woman, to be exact. For a half second, he wonders if he’s dead.

He rubs his eyes, but she’s still there. When he wakes up a little more, he realizes there’s a red armband around her bicep, and he watches curiously as she stares out across the pitch, mesmerized by the same sight he is.

“Nice night,” he comments quietly, but she still jumps near out of her skin at the sound of his voice.

“Christ,” she curses. “You scared me.”

American, he realizes.

“Sorry, ma’am.” He says, but he can’t help but smirk at her. God, but she’s a vision. Maybe he’s just starved for anybody’s company besides his friends, but he thinks this woman is the most beautiful thing he’s ever set eyes on.

“I didn’t think anyone would still be here.” She comes a little closer, close enough that Bill can make out more of her features, most notably the bruise darkening the left side of her face. Her shoulders slump as she realizes he’s noticed. “Occupational hazard,” she says before he can ask if she’s alright. “Why aren’t you AWOL?”

He shrugs. “Tired.”

She laughs, the sound music to his ears. “I slept for almost twelve hours when we first got here.”

“How long have you been billeted here?” He asks, tucking his hands into his pockets and shifting his weight. Something about her knowing smile and kind eyes makes him feel off kilter.

“Three days. I’m being transferred to the hospital.”

“I’m Bill,” he blurts. She grins, and he wants a hole to open up and swallow him.

She tells him her name, and Bill savors the sound of it, sure that she’s some kind of witch sent to put a spell on him. He feels spellbound, locked in her orbit. He doesn’t want her to leave.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks, trying to find whatever charm he thinks might still be buried under all the grime and trauma of the last few weeks.

“Are you asking me out, soldier?”

It’s his turn to grin at her playful tone. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Meet you by the gates in twenty minutes?” She asks, and he nods, watching her as she goes. She looks over her shoulder and he’s still staring, unashamed, gratified by the shy look she gets when he locks eyes with her.

A half hour later, he’s in his Class A’s, a little wrinkly, but certainly better than his grungy OD’s. He fidgets nervously as he waits for her to show up.

“Bill,” her soft voice announces her arrival. “Sorry, I couldn’t find my shoes--”

She’s tugging at her skirt as she walks, not paying attention to the way his jaw has gone completely slack as he takes her in. Her dress is also a little wrinkly, likely packed up in her trunk like his clothes are, but he doesn’t care about that. In fact, it makes her even more endearing.

Her hair falls in loose curls around her face, and she must have found some lipstick somewhere, because they’re an enticing shade of berry, and Bill licks his lips despite himself. Luckily she doesn’t catch him, or he’d feel like the biggest jerk this side of the Pacific.

“Do I have something on my face?” She asks when she catches him staring.

“No,” he answers, his voice rough. “You’re perfect.” It slips out, far more honest than he intended to be.

They both go quiet, and then she smiles, and the world rights itself again. Christ, he thinks, I’m done for.

In town, there are Marines and civilians everywhere, crowding the bars and streets. Bill keeps an eye out for his friends as he walks, both wanting to make sure they’re not causing too much trouble, and wanting to avoid them. He wants to keep this moment just for him.

He looks down at her as they walk, still unable to believe his luck.

“Can I ask you about that?” He asks her quietly, gesturing towards her cheekbone.

Her face goes carefully blank, and he curses himself. He should know better than to ask anyone who’s been in the shit about what happened to them. Not here.

“At the aid station, this man-- combat fatigue.” She mutters. “He was seeing things in his sleep. I thought he was going to hurt himself, so I tried to wake him up.”

She doesn’t need to tell him the rest.

“Didn’t mean to bring down the mood.”

She looks up at him, her big eyes reflecting the moonlight. “It’s okay. It’s sort of... nice to talk about it with someone.”

“You don’t have many friends here? I find that hard to believe.” He says, steering her towards a park. He originally intended on finding a place to get a drink, but he finds talking with her and listening to the lilt of her voice intoxicating enough.

She rolls her eyes at him. “I have some friends. Other nurses. Haven’t met the ones I’ll be bunking with now that I’m here, but.” She stops herself. “It’s hard to get to know anyone.”

He knows what she means. He feels the same way whenever replacements show up - he barely wants to know their names.

They find a bench out of the way of prying eyes. The chatter of Marines all over the place pairs with the crickets providing the soundtrack for the evening.

“What about you?” She asks, “You have many friends?”

He smiles thinking of the guys who have had his back since they landed on that godforsaken island. “A few.” He smirks. “They’re terrible. Hope you never meet them.”

She grins. “Well, they can’t be as charming as you are, clearly...”

He laughs, surprising himself. He can’t remember the last time someone made him laugh outside of a foxhole or a trench.

“Where are you from?” He finds he wants to know everything about her.

“Chicago,” she says with a fond smile. “You?”

“Indiana. A small town no one’s ever heard of.”

Nearby, a car backfires, and Bill surges off the bench, looking over to see her doing the same, hands clenched into fists.

“Fuck,” Bill swears, hands shaking and cheeks red with embarrassment.

“It’s okay,” she says, taking a step closer, taking his hand automatically. He burns at her touch. “It’s okay,” she repeats.

“I’m sorry--”

“Don’t apologize.” She says fiercely, suddenly sounding angry.

He knows how she feels.

It shouldn’t be like this. They should have met somewhere else. The state fair maybe, or while she was getting a milkshake with her friends. He would have spotted her, been unable to leave until he knew her name.

He would have been unable to get her pretty face out of his head.

Not here - not like this... with the thread of never ending carnage looming above both their heads.

“Let’s go to the beach.” She says, out of the blue, tugging him closer with the hold she’s still got on his hand.

He thinks he would follow her anywhere if she keeps looking at him like that.

The waves sound different than they did on Guadalcanal.

They’re calmer here, not so harsh. Maybe it’s the circumstances. Maybe it’s the company. Either way, Bill finds himself leaning back on his hands, legs stretched out in front of him.

Next to him, her skirt flutters in the breeze, the scent of something floral drifting towards him as the wind ruffles her hair.

“You know,” she says suddenly, her voice quiet, “when I became a nurse, I was so naive. I thought I’d be... dabbing foreheads with a cold cloth. Serving sandwiches.” She shakes her head. “What an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.” He insists. “I’m the one who volunteered to go halfway around the world and fight in the jungle.”

She smiles softly, looking out at the water. “I had no idea what I was getting into. Neither did you. None of us, really.” She meets his eyes, hers burning with something that sets fire to his veins. “You’re going to make it,” she says fiercely. “You’re going to make it, and when this is all over, I’d very much like to see you again, Bill.”

He wonders if there’s ever been another woman like her.

They sit there awhile longer. When she starts to shiver, he takes a risk and slides closer, slinging his arm around her shoulder. She leans in, her head on his shoulder, and when that gets uncomfortable for them both, she unceremoniously climbs in front of him so she’s between his legs, leaning back against his chest.

Their combined body heat makes him drowsy, and his hands wander, only a little. She sighs, and he’s never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his entire life.

They run out of time.

The MPs start searching the park, and then the beach, and they both scramble to their feet to make a run for it, laughing the entire way back to the stadium.

The Nurse Corps are billeted on the complete opposite side, and Bill finds himself looking for any reason not to let her go.

“I think I’m wounded,” he says, smiling lazily. “You should probably stick around.”

“I think you’re full of it.”

“Full of something,” he murmurs. “Can I write to you?”

She looks surprised. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

He ends that night with his cheek burning from where she’d kissed it, and her address in his pocket, “for afterwards,” she insists.

He hopes there is an afterwards.

It’s nearly fall in Chicago, but Bill’s hands are sweating. He hears chatter inside the large house, the windows open to let in the autumn breeze, and one voice in particular makes him stop in his tracks and shut his eyes briefly, trying to gather himself.

He knocks, takes a few steps back.

A screen door opens and shuts.

“Oh my god.”

He finally looks up.

“Oh my--” Her eyes are filled with tears, and she stops mid sentence to jump the last two porch steps and throw herself in his arms.

He’s caught off guard, but feels his knees go weak not from the remnants of his injury, but from the sheer relief of seeing her again, of feeling her in his arms, when he was sure he’d never have this chance.

He doesn’t hesitate - he tilts his head up and catches her lips, kissing her the way he wanted to the first night they met. She responds immediately, sighing against his mouth as he sets her back down on the ground so he can cup her face in his hands, breaking away only when he’s nearly gasping for breath.

“Bill.”

“Hi.”

“I thought you--” She stops herself, hand going over her mouth to stifle her sob. “You never answered my last letter.”

After Melbourne, they wrote to each other nearly every day. They know more about each other than Bill knows about some of his closest friends. That all stopped when he was hit.

“The Marines had the audacity to send me to a hospital that wasn’t yours,” he says, smiling at her. His smile fades as he takes in every detail of her face. “Are you--” He looks over her shoulder towards the house. “Is there someone--”

She looks stricken. “No. No, Bill, I told you.”

He remembers. In her last letter, which he could probably recite by heart if he needed to. I’ll wait for you, she had said. There’s no one else.

He wasn’t dumb enough to think that would last forever when she got home, though. He’s still not sure... he doesn’t believe he could be that lucky.

The hesitation must be written on his face, because she gets this look of pure determination before she’s tugging on his hand, dragging him around the corner of the house, away from prying eyes and ears.

She doesn’t even let him say another word. She pushes at his shoulders until his back is flat against the brick, and then she’s in his arms again, mouth pressed against his.

Her hands grip his lapels to keep herself steady, and his find purchase on her hips, his breath leaving him in a stuttered groan at the passion in her kiss.

He dreamed of her like this. He dreamed of a floral scent and a soft fabric bunching up under his hands, of finally, finally having enough time to kiss her like he meant it.

“I told you I would wait for you.” She gasps. “I don’t break my promises.”

“Thank god for that,” he mutters, before diving back in for more.

For once, time is on his side. There’s nothing to rush now, no need to act like they might never see each other again.

They’ve got all the time in the world.

'Cause these are the nights that you know when you're there You couldn't have planned it much better I swear and you hope That your senses aren't failing you now And you think to yourself now I could be wrong But I might have just stolen this scene from a song and you know That your senses aren't failing you now

End

#hoosier smith x reader #hoosier smith x oc #bill hoosier smith x reader #the pacific #the pacific fanfiction #softspeirs the pacific fanfiction

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