#i was there for fanfic babey

[wander-wren]

the off topic section of the minecraft seeds pro app ✌️ there was a small but thriving warrior cats fandom there. this post made me go see if the app/my account still exists and….unfortunately it does.

look upon 12yo me’s absolute MASTERPIECE. i’m screaming i assumed this relic would be dead, lost forever

I am a bored and curious human being who wants to know what the majority grew up with for their pleasure reading time.

[justaz]

arthur hearing merlin say he will not follow arthur to camlann and while he is upset, he still can’t bear the thought of just leaving merlin behind. arthur writing a letter and leaving it for merlin to read if he never returns. arthur falling in battle and merlin holding him as he passes. merlin not returning to camelot and remaining in ealdor for years before he is able to return and see his friends. he plans to stay but the moment he sees the citadel, he knows he won’t be able to. merlin wandering the streets of camelot and the halls of the castle like a ghost. this is arthur’s kingdom. every stone, every wall, every blade of grass, every tree has his name etched into it. the entire city is arthur. merlin finds himself turning to speak to arthur but he’s not there.

finding gwen who is ecstatic to see him and plans to offer him the position as court sorcerer but merlin refuses. he explains how he sees arthur everywhere. gwen confesses she feels the same but derives a sense of comfort from it, its as if he’s still with her. merlin saying it feels haunting, like it’s taunting merlin with arthur’s presence but never giving it to him. merlin saying he has to return to ealdor and take care of his mother. gwen telling him to be safe and asking if he’ll return to visit. merlin only managing a weak smile before walking off and gwen mourning again knowing that’ll be the last time she sees her best friend.

leon carrying the letter arthur had written to merlin for years in the hopes that someday he’d see him again to give him the last thing arthur wrote. running into merlin in the halls and greeting him. offering him the letter and explaining that arthur wrote it for him. merlin shakily taking it but being unable to open it. he keeps it preserved in his bag but never reads it. he won’t be able to take it. he knows it. merlin carrying it with him for years, decades, centuries. by the time he finally works up the nerve to unfurl it and read it, the parchment is so old it crumbles, the ink has faded so its almost illegible, and the language has long since died so merlin can’t understand it anymore.

[fandomfloozy]

Classical Conditioning

Pairing: Kento Nanami x clingy!reader

C/W: reader's love language is physical touch, petnames (kento refers to reader as love, sweetheart, darling), sorcerer instructor!reader (students refer to reader as sensei), gn!reader, slightly nsfw, mdni

wc: 6.5k

~°•*~

You're on the way home from a particularly grueling training session with the second years. Your muscles burn, your limbs feel heavy, and you want nothing more than to treat yourself to a sweet dessert and head home.

Home to bed, home to sleep, home to Kento...

You weakly push open the door of the nearest cafe you could find and head in. No sooner does the entry bell chime that the exhaustion of the day dissipates from your aching body. From one moment to the next, you've gone from zombie walk to barely containing your excitement as you spot an unmistakably familiar head of blond hair.

You don't even hear the cashier greet you as you're halfway across the room, your feet moving on their own volition. The closer you get, the wider the stupid grin on your face grows until you've practically jumped your fiancée from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your cheek against his.

"Kento!" You're nuzzling into him with your eyes closed, feeling yourself recharge to practically full capacity.

He doesn't seem the least bit startled or surprised to see you as he reaches a hand up to place on your arms. He moves his face away to get a good look at you. "Hi, sweetheart." He rubs his thumb on your forearm. "We were just talking about you."

In your haste, you failed to notice Takuma Ino sitting across from your lover.

You breathe out an awkward chortle, slinking your arms away from Kento and rounding his chair to pull out the one next to him. "All good things, I hope?" You slide a hand down his arm as you take a seat.

"Nothing but, sensei!"

"You're not one of my students, Takuma-kun." You give a semi-exasperated smile as you reach down the table to grab Kento's hand. "I already told you; you don't need to call me that."

Kento glances your way. "We were actually talking about potentially having him shadow you on one of your next missions." He gives a squeeze at your locked hands at the suggestion. "Have you give him a few pointers, show him how you do things."

"Oh!" You look over at Takuma. "I'm not sure what I could teach you that you don't know, you're plenty capable already!"

"But you're a first grade, sensei! I could pick up a lot from watching you work."

"You're pushing first grade yourself!" You argue.

"And you're pushing semi-special grade, darling," Kento chides, coolly sipping at his drink. "Don't sell yourself too short."

You frown. If you sold yourself too short, Kento upsold you too much.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you let out a hum as you think. "Well..."

You look up and Takuma is giving you the closest thing a young man his age can get to puppy eyes. And it's working.

You fiddle with Kento's fingers. "I trust you're capable enough not to slow me down..." Takuma visibly starts to brighten. "So I suppose it couldn't hurt to have you come on a mission and shadow me--"

"Yes!" Takuma pumps a fist and grabs your free hand to shake in earnest. "I won't slow you down at all, sensei! Promise!"

You giggle as he continues to shake. "There's no doubt in my mind."

Kento chuckles a bit and moves to stand up. "Now that that's squared away, why don't I get you something to eat?"

"Oh! Yes, please." You remember that the sweet treat you came for remains unordered. You lean away to let Kento stand. "You remember my order?"

"You need to ask?" He smiles and starts making his way towards the register. You hold his hand and then his fingers to the last moment as they slip away from you. You then watch him with your chin leaned into your hand and a dopey smile on your face as you watch him tell the cashier your order and pull out his wallet.

"Your two's relationship is so wild to me." Takuma's voice breaks you out of your lovelorn trance. You clear your throat.

"I guess it is atypical," you hum.

Romantic relationships in the jujutsu world, especially between jujutsu sorcerers, are few and far between. Not many sorcerers become old enough or secure enough to explore those kinds of relationships, let alone get to the point of planning to marry. You and Kento are lucky...

"Especially because you two are such an unlikely pair."

You hum in response again, before what he said kicks in. "Wait, what?"

Takuma responds casually while taking bites of his pastry. "Well, you know. Sensei and Nanami-san are so different. Don't get me wrong, he's a great man, but he's kind of a square."

You snort, recalling your jujutsu tech days with Kento. "He's always been a little standoffish. Been that way since we were students."

"It's just crazy. You're so bubbly and nice, and he's so..." He gestures vaguely. "I guess what they say is true: opposites attract."

"Well..." You fidget. "He is a little more reserved than I am, I suppose."

He takes in another fork full of his food. "I don't think I've ever even seen him hold your hand first."

That leaves you speechless.

Was that true? Has he never held your hand without you reaching out to grab his first? You've never thought about it before.

No, surely, it's just in public. Takuma has never seen Kento initiate because you're in public. Kento doesn't mind PDA, but you're just more prone to initiate in a public setting. Surely that's what he means.

Surely.

The weight of the day is suddenly returning to your body all at once.

Kento returns with your order, hand on the back of the chair. "Don't worry about the bill, it's covered." Takuma cheers to himself. Kento turns to face you. "Ready to head home? You look exhausted."

You nod and let out a little, "Mhm." You reach out a hand and Kento helps you up. Huh...

Initiated.

"We're heading out now. I'll see you tomorrow, Ino-kun."

"See you, Nanami-san. Sensei."

You offer a wave and lean into Kento's arm as you walk out of the cafe.

Initiated...

The ride home is quiet. You're on the verge of nodding off in the backseat as the driver takes you and Kento home. He holds onto your treat from the cafe, your craving now forgotten. Your hands are folded in your lap as you try to stay awake.

It's private enough in the car. Surely, he'll at least try to hold your hand...

You want him to hold your hand. Your thigh, your shoulders, your waist... Anything, really. But he could at least hold your hand.

Please, hold my hand...

The car coming to a stop wakes you. Your head lay in Kento's lap as he gently pets your head.

"We've arrived," the driver announces.

"Let's get you to the shower and then you can sleep all you want, alright?" Kento whispers as he tenderly lifts you from his lap and into a sitting position.

Falling asleep on him like that in front of the driver. You really forced his hand there. He had to hold you in his lap. He had no choice.

Initiated.

Arriving home is a bit relieving, though. It didn't get more private than that. More comfortable.

You were showering. He was undressing and going about his nightly routine. It didn't get more intimate than that.

So by the time you stepped out of the shower, water dripping off your form, you expected something--anything--as you creeped up behind him. Dressed in pajama pants and slippers, brushing his teeth in the mirror, he saw your naked form in his peripheral.

He smirked and spat out the toothpaste. "All done, beautiful?"

You nodded meekly, holding your arm behind your back. He turned to face you and you looked at him, alternating between looking at each eye.

Surely, he'd initiate. Nothing was stopping him. You'd initiated all day; it was his turn. Surely...

He reached out to you, and you waited with bated breath...

...as he reached behind you, grabbing the towel to place over your head and dry you off. He smiled softly. "Go put on some pajamas. I'll join you in bed soon."

He then wrapped the towel around your shoulders and turned to finish washing his face. You stood, dumbfounded for a moment, before scuttling to grab clothes to sleep in.

Maybe he just isn't in the mood tonight.

T-shirt.

I mean, you don't have sex every night.

Underwear.

But even when you do... does he initiate? You suddenly can't recall.

Something you do every night, though, is hold each other. That's a given. Cuddling is essential. It's how you get to sleep: relying on Kento's warmth to lull you into a sense of security and comfort.

You rush to the bed and under the covers. You wait.

Kento emerges from the bathroom, turning off lights on the way to you. Your anticipation is almost palpable at this point.

He situates himself in bed, sat up and looking down at you. "Long day, love?"

The top half of your face is peeking out from under the covers as you nod. "Very," you remark with a bit of a whine. "Glad to finally be home with you, Ken." You reach out to him instinctively then think better of it and stop short, your hand flopping on the bed with a thud.

You both look down at it for a beat.

He laughs. "Me too." He picks up your hand from the space between you and presses his lips to it, holding back a chuckle. "Sleep well. We've got an early start tomorrow."

He then drops your hand to turn off the bedside lamp. The darkness somehow makes the room feel significantly colder.

Kento shimmies down into the covers, lays down face-up, and closes his eyes. "Good night, love."

"Night, Ken," you whisper.

You close your eyes as you replay the exchange in your head.

Initiated.

~°•*~

You wake the next morning curled up by Kento's side. Through the course of the night, it seems like you ended up drifting closer to him. Your head is on his chest, your legs tangled up with his.

His form is the same as he fell asleep in. Supine. Completely relaxed.

You sigh. You tried to give him a wide berth last night and still ended up encroaching on his space.

You carefully untangle yourself from him. His alarm hasn't gone off yet and you don't want to wake him. Once out of bed, you pad down the hall and to the kitchen. With the extra time, you decide you might as well get some breakfast ready.

In the silence while you're cooking, however, you can't help the doubts that start creeping up in your mind... You probably make him uncomfortable with your constant need to be touching him in some way, shape, or form. You know physical touch isn't his love language, and yet you pester him constantly anyway, even in public. He didn't so much as touch you last night without you practically begging for him to. He probably only reciprocates out of obligation.

Maybe you should tone it down today.

You hear the rushing stream of water from down the hall as you finish plating the food. Seems like you have time to pack your lunches for the day as well.

As soon as that's done, you pick at your breakfast a bit. The pit of insecurity in your stomach is having adverse effects on your appetite. You sigh heavily to yourself and figure you should at the very least have a coffee.

You prep one for yourself and one for Kento, and as if on cue, he emerges from the bedroom. His hair is glistening from the water and product still drying in it. He's got his dress shirt on with his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He looks absolutely heaven-sent.

"Ooh, thanks for breakfast, love." He smiles as he takes his seat at the table and you hand him his mug. Your fingers brush as he grabs it, and you yank your hand away a little too forcefully. Kento raises a quizzical brow at you. "Careful, I'm sure it's hot." He blows on it a bit before taking a sip.

You hide your hands behind your back to avoid potential slip-ups. You resigned yourself to no touching him unprompted today. You were going to stick to it.

"How did you sleep? I missed you when I woke up this morning."

"Slept fine." You grab your own mug to give your hands something to do. "Just woke up a bit early. Lunch is packed and everything."

"Oh, wow. That's quite proactive of you," he teases. Oh, you wanna kiss him. He digs into his plate and gives a nod to yours. "Aren't you having breakfast?"

You shake your head. He scrunches his brows and his eyes soften. God, you want to rub at the lines between his brows. "I should actually start getting dressed, if anything. I'll go do that now."

You set down your mug on the counter and make a beeline to your bedroom. This is harder than you thought. He's irresistible. How are you meant to make it through the day?

Ugh, but this is for his sake. You don't want to make him uncomfortable. Show restraint, you're an adult.

You get dressed, do your hair, brush your teeth, and take a look at the clock to make sure you're good on time before your driver arrives. Once you're sure you're presentable, you grab your things and start making your way to the front door to put on your shoes.

"Hey, sweetheart--"

You stop in your tracks and look over at Kento, who is standing by the coat rack, jacket in hand and a weird look on his face. His tie is still loose. That's unlike him.

He gives you a crooked smile. "You seem frazzled this morning. I'm sure you're in a rush, but do you mind helping me get my jacket on?"

You hesitate, then you walk over to him. You don't have to touch him while putting on his coat. This is fine. He's asking you to do this anyway. "I've got you, Ken." You take the jacket from his hands, and he turns around to give you full access.

Oh, his back looks so good under his dress shirt. One arm in. It'd be so easy to just run a hand over it and cop a feel... Other arm in. Has he always had such a biteable neck?

You don't get a chance to think about it before it's covered by the collar of his jacket. You clasp your hands together in front of you as he turns around.

"Thank you, darling."

He looks you in the eye and you can't help your gaze from drifting down to his lips. You should kiss him. You want to kiss him. But he isn't leaning in. He's not initiating. You shouldn't. But you can't help gravitating towards him when he looks at you like that with so much love in his eyes and--

You lean in and tighten his tie up to the collar of his shirt.

He looks down in surprise. "Oh! Heh, thank you again." He lets out a chuckle.

You smile. "Anytime." Success. You restrained yourself. That was a close one.

Your phone chimes and you look down. "My driver's here. I'm heading out now." You turn around and put on your shoes at the doorstep. You open the door and spare a glance back at Kento, who is still standing right where you left him. "I'll see you tonight. Have a good day. Love you!"

"Love you, too..." He trails and adjusts his tie with one hand while the other waves a goodbye.

You give him a quick wave back and close the door behind you.

Phew, this shouldn't be that hard.

~°•*~

It's really not.

That hard, that is.

You spent the car ride to the school congratulating yourself on a job well done, coasting off the high of a win. By the time you arrived in the classroom, the whole ordeal took a backseat in your mind. As it stands, Maki, Toge, and Panda are enough of a handful in their own right.

You enter and all of your students seem to be here, sans Yuta. You close the sliding door and smile before walking to the front. "Alright, be seated," you announce as you set your things down. "Pop quiz today, so notes away and pencils out, please."

Your students' audible groans fill the mostly empty room.

"That's too cruel, sensei," Panda whines.

"Mustard leaf."

"Yeah, you didn't even prepare us for this," Maki complains.

The chorus of complaints keep ringing out. You sigh at the lack of order. You're not exactly in the mood with only your morning coffee sitting in your stomach, but you can't exactly blame them when it's so early in the morning and it's the last day of the week. However, that doesn't stop you from taking a deep breath and bringing your hands together in a forceful clap.

The sound reverberates through the floorboards and up the walls. Your students freeze.

The juxtaposition of your gentle smile and the tilt of your head lend to the immediate quiet. "I thought I asked you all very nicely to put your notes away and take a pencil out. I must have imagined the idle chatter, hm?"

They all sit up straight, desks cleared, pencil in hand. "Yes, sensei!"

A handful indeed.

It's what you need today, though. While Kento's off working, you're busy with the second years. There's no temptation this way. Not seeing him for the better part of the day helps. The rapid pace of training and lessons keeps you distracted... for the most part.

That is until, without warning, he's walking onto the training field where you're leading your class through combat drills. He has one Yuuji Itadori in tow, skipping along beside him.

You're kind of geeking, but you try not to let it show. This is Round 2. Second test of the day. You're in public this time. Your students are around. You can hold back.

You greet him with a smile. "You're back early. How did it go?"

Kento rolls the shoulder on his dominant side out. "It went well, all things considered." He looks a bit disheveled.

"It was so cool!" Yuuji cuts in. "Nanamin's cursed technique is always amazing to watch!"

You feel a swell of pride at that. Kento is very talented, you're glad Yuuji gets to learn from him. "How did you do today, Yuu-kun?"

"I think I did really well--"

"His form is still sloppy. He needs to get a better grasp on real-time battle strategy." Now that he's closer to you, you notice Kento's hair seems out of sorts. You want to run your fingers through it and fix it a bit...

"I thought I did a lot better today," Yuuji pouts. He leans his head onto the front of your shoulder and whines lowly so only you can hear. "Nanamin's been kinda mean today, sensei."

You laugh and wrap one arm around Yuuji, using the other to rub at his hair comfortingly. "He really wants you to improve. I'm sure it's nothing personal, Yuu-kun," you coo.

"I'll watch your students for you." You don't get a good look at Kento's face as he is already briskly making his way to where your kids are training.

Now that you mention it, that was a bit snappy. You wonder if something happened to Kento while he was out today.

You hum. You release Yuuji from your hold. "Why don't you tell me more about how today went?"

"Well." Yuuji starts prattling on about how he met with Gojo this morning who then let him know Kento would be instructing him again today, so they headed off to meet him, and Kento had seemed out of it this morning to begin with. Anyway, they went to exorcise some curses, but Kento seemed to be a little more aggressive with them today than usual. He mentioned how Kento had scolded him sternly more than a few times while they were working, but once they finished Kento still seemed unsatisfied and kept grumbling about this and that, stuff Yuuji couldn't make out. "And once we were done, I asked Nanamin if we could eat something and he said okay, but he just wanted to stop by here first to 'Check on the state of the instruction you students are being provided.' Whatever that means."

Huh. You should've guessed Gojo was at the source of this. He was probably pestering Kento into this morning. On top of that, Kento seems to be dissatisfied with how Gojo is teaching the first years and came to analyze the situation.

No wonder he seems a bit touchy.

Oh, Yuuji is still speaking to you.

"Sounds like a lot." You nod along to whatever he started talking about next. "I'm sure you and Kento had a long morning, Yuu-kun. How's about you take him to find Gojo-san and the other first years, okay?" You start guiding Yuuji back across the field to Kento.

It gives you pause to find that your second years are out of breath and hands-on-knees by the time you get back. You couldn't have been talking with Yuuji for more than a few minutes, what happened in that time?

"Really putting them through their paces there, huh, Ken?" You breathe out a laugh nervously. Kento is kind of scary when Gojo gets him riled up.

"They can handle this much," is all Kento offers, standing cross-armed, facing you students.

You pause. Your brows scrunch together in worry. "Okay, guys. Water break! Be back here in five minutes."

Your students let out a sigh of relief as they stagger towards the sidelines for some reprieve. Yuuji trails a safe distance behind you as you round Kento to face him fully. You soften your eyes as you meet his own, shielded from you by his round goggle sunglasses.

"Are you alright?"

The scrunch in his brow relaxes a bit at your scrutiny. "Yes, darling, I'm fine--"

"Are you sure?" You press. You take him in a bit more. His stance is relaxing some more. "Your hair's all fussed," you tease with a snort.

He looks at you. You look at him. You're mirroring his arm-crossed stance. You don't move to fuss over him, especially if it'll just make him more uncomfortable in this state, but you expect him to at least run a hand through his hair himself.

"Are you sure you're alri--"

"Yes, everything's fine. Yuuji, let's head over the first year classroom." He's already leaving before you can protest.

"Aww, but I thought we were going to eat first." Yuuji jogs to catch up with Kento and the two talk back and forth until their chatter becomes too quiet for you to hear.

You're left kind of unnerved by how he left things. Kento isn't one to beat around the bush. He'll usually tell you what's making him upset without mincing his words, especially when it comes to venting about Gojo. This recent transgression must have bothered him something fierce.

"Lover's quarrel?" You hear Maki comment behind you. You turn and realize all of your students have gathered to watch you watch your fiancée and Yuuji walk away.

"Pfft, no. Nothing that dramatic." You wave off their concern, or lack thereof. They're fishing for gossip, and you know it.

"Seemed like something fishy was going on between you twooooo," Panda singsongs.

"Salmon."

"Hey, do you want to waste the last..." You check your watch. "Two minutes of your water break yapping? 'Cause you're going to need it for the next set."

"No, sensei!" They scatter off to finish drinking at their jugs.

"Mhm, that's what I thought," you declare to yourself.

You want to bask in this recent victory. You staved off another round of the grabby hands again, after all. But something about this win just doesn't sit right with you. You don't feel good as long as you know something is eating at Kento this much...

Hopefully he works out whatever he and Gojo have going on.

~°•*~

The rest of the day is a blur. Your students are eager to get a start on their weekend or on missions, so as soon as it's time to dismiss them, they are out the door.

No new assignments were offered to you as the day went on, and thankfully, it seems like there aren't any pressing matters for you to attend to with the higher ups. By all accounts, you're free, so you grab your things and make way out the door and to the campus gates.

You haven't had a proper meal all day, so you start contemplating what you could pick up on your way home. You had enough ingredients to make a big dinner tonight. Maybe a quick snack would be enough to stave off the hunger until then.

As you continue to ponder your options, who do you run into but Satoru Gojo himself.

He spots you before you can think of turning tail to avoid him.

"If it isn't my lovely coworker and counterpart!" He offers a childlike grin and waves as his lithe form approaches you. "How is the beloved second-year sensei today?"

"Just fine," you respond, walking past him without a second glance.

He doesn't miss a beat as he trails behind you and continues chatting. "Aww, c'mon. Give me more than that. I feel like I barely get to see you."

You sigh. "That's on purpose, Gojo-san."

He feigns offense, dramatically pressing a hand to his forehead. "You wound me. We've known each other for years. You can call me senpai when we're not around the students, or at the very least drop the honorifics."

"Would you rather I referred to you as 'hey, you,' or maybe as 'trash-kun'?" You tease. You didn't hate Gojo, per se. You just found him a mite unbearable sometimes.

"'Gojo-san' is fine, then..." He pouts. "You and Nanami are just the same." He brightens as he seems to remember something. "Speaking of! I got to speak to our resident ex-salaryman today! He was telling me all about how you--"

"How he thinks you're slacking on training the first years?" You interrupt.

"What? No! I'll have you know I am doing an amazing job, especially with Megumi and Yuuji. As a matter of fact, they're..."

You tune him out for the rest of the walk to the exit. The thought of Gojo defending himself in the face of a scolding Kento was amusing enough to get you through the rest of the walk out. At the gates, you find your driver waiting for you, the car idling and primed to take you far away from the school and this conversation.

"As much as I love our talks." You turn to look at Gojo with thinly veiled annoyance. "I should be getting home for the day, Gojo-san." Before you can reach for the door yourself, Gojo does it for you. He opens it widely and with a flourish, offering his hand to help you in.

"But of course, sorry to keep you. Get home safe. Get rested. I'm sure next week will be another doozy."

You accept his hand and roll your eyes half-heartedly as he goes on and on. You can't help the small smile on your face as you make your way into the car, though.

As soon as you're securely inside, Gojo peers in and looks you in the eye. "But if I could offer you a bit of advice, my dear kohai." His tone comes across a bit more serious. You attention falls securely on him at that. "I'd go about talking to our friend Nanami over... stimulus control."

Huh?

You give Gojo a look that you hope conveys your confusion, but any note of seriousness in his demeanor leaves him as fast as it came. He grins widely at you and closes the door before you have the chance to question him further. As soon as the door closes, the driver pulls off and Gojo becomes but a shrinking figure in the rear window.

Well, that was cryptic.

What the fuck did he mean "stimulus control"?

You don't think much of it after a while. Gojo is infamously too unserious for his own good. It would be a waste of brain power to read too much into what could very well just be him messing with you, so you don't. What you do continue pondering is what you could do for dinner.

By the time you get home, you've decided on snacking on yesterday's treat while cooking up a suitable feast to make up for missing breakfast. And to congratulate you on a job well done today.

You are in high spirits as you eat and cook at the same time. You could get used to this! Restraining yourself was far easier than you had anticipated. What had seemed like an impossible task this morning didn't seem so bad in hindsight. Maybe every day could be like this...

With no touching Kento at all...

And him not initiating any physical contact with you... at all.

This experience had really put Takuma's observation to the test, hadn't it? Kento really doesn't initiate physical affection with you at all, does he?

Your mood sours a bit.

But you attempt to pull yourself out of it just as quickly. He has other methods of showing he loves you. He shows you he loves you every day. Constant messages checking on how you're doing. Doing the chores whenever you're far too drained. Sitting down to watch your favorite show with you. Bringing back trinkets from missions outside the city that made him think of you. Not to mention that he says he loves you outright every day without fail.

Kento is an intensely loving man, and if you only had to sacrifice a bit of hugging and squeezing for his sake, that was completely fine with you. He just wasn't the type to receive love that way and that's okay.

That's fine.

There's a jingle of keys in the lock of the front door just as you're finishing up the last dish of tonight's spread. You turn off the stove and start transferring to a serving dish as Kento appears in view, dropping his briefcase and shedding his jacket at the front.

"Ken! You're home!" You turn to place the pot and spoon in your hands in the sink. "Dinner's just about ready, just gotta set the table and everything." You reach to grab a towel and wipe your hands as you turn around to face him. "Unless this is a have-dinner-standing-up-at-the-kitchen-island sort of da--"

Kento leaning on the kitchen island with a hand on his hip gives you pause. His head is hanging low as he reaches up to rub at the bridge of his nose.

You crane your neck to look him in the eye. "Long day?"

He sighs. "Like you wouldn't believe." He looks up at you, facing you head-on. An uncomfortable silence fills the space between you. He doesn't elaborate.

You scratch your head. "Well, at least dinner's ready!" You gesture to the courses for the meal. "One less thing to worry about."

"Mhm." He nods. You're not sure with the tinted lenses, but it almost seems like Kento is looking at you... expectantly? You don't know what to say. The silence stretches on. You twist at the towel in your hands.

You tilt your head and press your lips in a thin line. "You seem stressed."

He surprises you by letting out a dry chuckle and turning away. He takes off his goggles and places them on the counter. He runs a hand down his face as he leans on the other.

"Kento..." You approach him cautiously. You're not sure what to do. Usually you'd rub at his back, but you're not sure that's the right thing to do here. "If this is about the Gojo thing--"

"Gojo?" You're taken aback as he stands at full height and throws his hands up. He starts pacing and grumbles to himself, "Of all the things... Had to sit there and talk to Gojo about this, of all the people..."

"Are you alright?"

"Are you alright??" He turns quickly and faces you.

The outburst has you dropping the towel and bumping into the sink. You didn't realize you'd stepped back so far. Kento's right there with you, though. There's nowhere else to go and nothing else to do for him but to press a hand on either side of you, caging you in.

"Have I done something to upset you?" His bare eyes look into yours solemnly, almost pained.

You alternate between looking at both of his eyes for a moment. In your surprise at the seriousness of this exchange, laughter is suddenly bubbling up in your chest and bursts out before you can stop it. "What? Haha!"

Your fit of giggles seems to take Kento aback. He blinks. "Darling, I'm serious."

You try to stifle your laughter with the back of your hand. "Ken, honey, what do you mean?" You shake your head. "You haven't done anything to upset me. What made you think that?"

The warmth of a gentle hand on your cheek shocks you out of the hilarity of the moment.

Initiated.

Kento doesn't give you any choice but to look him in the eye. "I had to pull you in so you'd sleep in my arms last night." He emphasizes his words with a stroke of his thumb on the apple of your cheek. "I woke up without you this morning. You left today without a send-off kiss. God, I stopped by while you worked and didn't even fix my own appearance for the chance that you'd run your hands through my hair." Kento grows progressively more distressed as he speaks. You're speechless. "You haven't so much as brushed a hand against me all day. Have I done something that made you... uncomfortable with me?"

"Oh..." In the blink of an eye, all of the restraint you'd brute force trained into your disposition today is thrown out the window. "Oh, Kento." You reach up to place both hands on either side of his face. "You could never make me feel uncomfortable with you." You reach around his neck and squeeze him into you, rubbing your head into his cheek comfortingly. "The whole reason I pulled back today was because I thought I was making you uncomfortable."

"What?" He pulls away to look at you, placing his hands squarely on your shoulders, not moving them away. "What could possibly make you think that you make me uncomfortable?"

"Well..." You look down at your hands as they fiddle with his tie and dress shirt. "You have to admit the way I'm constantly touching and hugging and kissing you is a bit excessive, no?"

"No, actually. I don't have to admit that because it's not true. Look at me."

You peer at him through your eyelashes.

"Sweetheart, what made you feel this way?"

You glance away.

"Love, look at me."

You do. He's making full eye contact with you. Patiently waiting.

"Someone might have..." You trail off a bit. "Offhandedly pointed out...." Man, this is hard to admit now. "That you never hold my hand first?"

Kento blinks. Then blinks a few more times. "Surely, that's not true. Who told you that?"

"That's beside the point," you blurt. "The important thing is that that's what this whole thing was. Me making an effort to not touch you as much, only if you initiated first. And then it sort of turned out to also be a ploy to see if you'd even initiate at all... Which you didn't..."

Kento looks appalled.

"I just got really in my head about it!" You ramble on. "And then a little insecure. And then I was really just doing this all for your sake because I sort of got it in my head that you didn't like PDA--or physical affection in general--at all, because you never initiate any of it! And then I thought that maybe I was being too much and--"

In your panic, you failed to notice Kento slinking his hands down to your hips, towards the hem of your shirt. The feeling of the pads of his fingers on the bare skin of your stomach makes you jump a bit. "How could you ever think you're too much..." His palms are warm as they join his fingertips. He's moved his head to lean beside yours and speaks lowly into the shell of your ear. His hands start wandering farther up to your bare waist. Unfettered. "When I can't get enough of you?"

You squirm in his grasp. "Kento..." you breathe. You're not used to him taking initiative like this.

"I'm sorry I got so used to receiving your affection without any effort on my part." He glides his nose from your ear down your neck. "I got so used to having your hands on me without trying-" He presses a kiss at your pulse point. You gasp. "That I made a real ass of myself as soon as you took that away." One of his hands moves from your waist to your bare spine. It makes you shiver and arch forward. "I took you for granted and for that I apologize."

Your breathing is picking up. "It's okay, Ken," you say unevenly.

Kento shakes his head. "No, it's not." He pulls back just enough so that he's practically nose to nose with you. "I love you very much. Let me be sorry." He presses his forehead to yours, eyes closed.

You nod against him. "Okay."

"Surely," he continues. "I have to show you just how sorry I am." The sideways smile he gives you carries mischief. Your eyes widen before he leans down. You let out a yelp as he lifts you off the ground and onto the counter.

He sits between your legs, and you hold him by the neck as you try to keep your breath even. "The food'll get cold."

"You'll hear no complaints from me."

You giggle as he leans on one of his hands to smash his lips into yours and uses the other to start loosening his tie.

This is so unlike him, and you can't help thinking that you should deprive him of your touch more often just to illicit this response.

Somehow that reminds you of a certain someone's advice and you end up smiling deeper into the kiss.

"What?" Kento's laugh mixes with yours in the space between you.

You snort at the thought. "I can't believe I Pavlov'd you into expecting hugs and kisses from me."

"Oh, sweetheart." He leans down and gives your neck a playful nip. "You're one bell I'll just about always salivate for."

That makes you snicker and shriek even more as Kento continues trailing kisses down your neck and squeezing and touching wherever his hands can find purchase.

Dork.

For a love language Kento didn't start off with when you met him, physical touch sure seems to be something he can't go without. And that's all your influence.

You guess what they say is true, to be loved is to be changed.

~°•*~

divider via cafekitsune

gif via darkbluepassion01

[barghuest-draws]

Lil’ sketch to release some of that obsessive pressure so I can work on my other projects for a bit ❤️

[heartbreak-sandwich]

Billy Hargrove is your boyfriend 💕

“Baby.” All other words ceased to exist as Billy’s brain flatlined at the sight of you in your new bodycon pleather halter dress. You stood in front of your vanity mirror applying a red lipstick and giving your hair a final spritz before standing up straight and shrugging.

Moving over to your bed to put on your shoes, you were surprised when Billy wordlessly bent down to kneel in front of you, taking your left foot in his hand and resting it on his knee. He picked up the left leopard print boot and worked it carefully on, zipping it up to the top, and repeating his actions with the other, eyes running over and over you, and you could swear he was almost salivating.

“Is this okay?” you asked, gesturing to your outfit, hair, and shoes.

“Okay?” His eyes widened. “Why wouldn’t it be okay?” With the other boot zipped, he stood and offered a hand to help you up.

“It’s not too much?”

“Definitely not.”

“Well, what is it then?” He lifted your hand and spun you around slowly.

“Gorgeous, stunning, ravishing comes to mind. You’re breakin’ my heart already,” he smirked, pulling you in closer, eyes locked with yours.

“Aww, do you need me to kiss it better?” You smiled wide and rested your hands over his heart through his unbuttoned shirt.

“Always,” he replied, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead, the smell of his mint gum and spicy aftershave reminding you that this is home. 

✨ Nicknames for you: Babe, dollface, sweet thing (This defaults to “baby” when he’s turned on, and sometimes that’s the only word he can say when he sees you looking like an absolute snack.)

💕 Love language: physical touch/acts of service

Insists on being your personal chauffeur and bodyguard under any circumstances.

Even if he’s preoccupied with something, he is still touching you in some way, i.e. resting a hand on your thigh while he drives.

Loves to show you off wherever you go together with his arm around you.

Offering to fix your car, help you with the yard work, and taking care of the dishes after your meals together.

Takes you on drives to listen to music and talk about life together. He knows all the best places to park where you two can be alone and enjoy a beautiful view of the lights of the town, or a hidden stream, or the best hideout to see all of the stars.

He loves having you close to him. He will absentmindedly move to be near you in any room or situation. No matter what is going on around you, the two of you are like magnets, always finding your way back to each others’ sides.

Loses all functioning capacity when you walk into a room, having to stop and take time to stare at you, gawking and speechless, before running his hands over you and telling you how appetizing you look. He is completely obsessed with you, obviously.

💋 Kissing Billy: He is all fire and intensity. With strong hands and lips, every time kissing Billy is a dizzy adventure, and his experience level means he’s the best at what he does. Whether it’s lazy, smiley kisses tangled in the bed sheets or rough and tumble lip biting between ass grabs and muffled growls, he is always giving 110% for you. Pushing his curls out of his eyes before a kiss always earns you a warm, blinding smile from him.

[strigital]

just... him... 🥺

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

crazed by how mary and john were forced together by the angels and then this is never addressed in canon? fixed it. angered that mary is obviously a lesbian and this is never explored? fixed it. frustrated by the strange absence of deanna campbell in the winchesters? fixed it. wondering why mary winchester died in a full face of makeup? fixed it. upset they never emphasised how young she was when she was resurrected? fixed it. feel there is more to mary and dean's relationship which we never saw? fixed it. fixed it all! fixed everything. in fic form for you up now on ao3 it's called i'll sing a hymn to mary it's 34k and it's the marynatural multiverse fic we deserve

[velvetwyrms]

Falling Fast Through Fragmented Universes [GaaLee Alien AU]

Heya folks! So I’ve spent the past 3 months writing chapter 3 of this AU, originally in the form of an anthology of moments throughout Gaara & Lee’s first week of living together, with each standalone story having its own title.

Once I hit 12k words with it however, I decided to split the stories into their own separate chapters. The 4th chapter will be posted tomorrow. I aim to post one of them every 3-5 days depending on my schedule, and I have 5/6 completed already. Here’s the first one. Be sure to reblog to spread the word, and enjoy! 🩵

Chapter 3: Bioluminescence [Link]

Length: 1.4k words

Rating: Mature (later chapters)

Warnings: Body Horror, Uncanny Valley, Prey Fear, Alien Biology. This IS a sappy monsterlover story, said monster is just Unsettling for humans to interact with.

Relationships: GaaLee

Characters: Rock Lee, Gaara, Neji, Tenten, Maito Gai, Sakura, Ino, Kakashi

Additional Tags: Illustrated fanfic, Sci-Fi AU, Meet-Cute, They Were Roomates (Oh My GOD They Were Roomates), Alternate Universes, Exploring Vast And Strange Worlds Beyond Comprehension, Alien Biology, Hurt/Comfort, Olympian Rock Lee, Interspecies Confusion.

Chapter Summary:

VII of Swords • Snapdragon

Luminescent. Radiant. Resplendent.
Bright and brilliant in all ways.
A spotlight beautiful and entirely unwelcome, to an anglerfish luring its prey.

[Please reblog to stop my hours of hard work from dying in your likes. This let’s others enjoy it and motivates me to write/draw more of this AU! <3]

Honorary tagging: @ghoste-catte @shukakumoodboard @karkatvantasasslesschaps @bandsandwristbands @rkaln @reject-tiefling @puregaalee

[jimmys-zeppelin]

hoping, waiting

arrow through me part four

may 16, 1972

10:30pm

It was unseasonably cold that May night. The wet sheen on the pavement from the rain that had fallen earlier made Jeanie’s brand new Biba boots squeak louder than they would have in drier weather.

She pulled her mini skirt down further over her bum, though it was already at the lowest it could go. Her mother had bought her a soft pink jumper that matched perfectly with the outfit. She wished she could go home to show her mother her nice outfit; even though her mother would definitely have something to say about “the length of that skirt!”

Jeanie's stockings pricked at her legs, making her calves break out in goosebumps when combined with the London cold. Nadine, a friend of a friend and a girl she had barely known, walked beside her in the street. They were on their way to the after-party following a popular rock act’s performance.

They hadn't gone to see the performance, rather Nadine had only been invited to the after-party. Jeanie couldn't figure out how the logistics of that worked in the slightest, but she was the only one in a long line of girls available to attend that night, so she didn’t really care.

And so she went. The drinks were free...what was the worst that could happen?

"Jeanie, come on," Nadine urged, several steps ahead of her.

“It’s not like we’re missing anything,” Jeanie complained, adjusting her foot inside her tall boot. “Concert’s over anyway.”

5:35AM

Jeanie woke stirringly to long black hair acting as a pillow for her sweaty cheek. She was back in her flat (good) and saw only the dim light of the bathroom lighting the place up. With an inward groan, Jeanie would have rather gotten a slightly more expensive electric bill than to leave the comfort of her bed and the stranger—not stranger, Jimmy—beside her.

The warmth radiating beside Jeanie was comforting. The alcohol in her system had just begun to settle, and, in her sleep-filled stupor, she couldn't help but be drawn to it like a magnet. Jimmy sighed contentedly, pulling her closer as if they'd known one another for years. Her cheek settled into his bare, sparsely-haired chest, the distant scent of sweat mixed with cigarettes and his cologne proved the most intoxicating sleep aid.

She settled back to sleep then, setting all worries aside until the morning.

10:45PM

Miraculously, Jeanie was already sipping her second gin and tonic for the evening. Her first had been halfway slurped before being knocked out of her hand by another partygoer—Jimmy, as she'd come to know him—and he got her another drink.

"You live in London?" Jimmy asked. His green eyes sparkled even in the dark club lighting.

"Yeah. Just moved out here from Chiswick," she said as she sipped through the dual straws as hard as she could.

"That's cool. I've just moved here myself—well, actually it's been about four years," he chuckled.

"How old are you?" Jeanie asked, noticing how young he looked.

"Twenty-six," Jimmy replied with a slight raise of his eyebrows and a sip of his beer. She could tell he was trying to impress with the number. Now she wanted nothing more than to step away from him. No matter how cute he was.

Jeanie figured after she'd enough to make herself go cross-eyed, she would head home. Once again, the free drinks were something to take advantage of.

"Did you go to the show before this?" she asked, the gin and tonic starting to hit her right in her empty stomach.

"Yeah," Jimmy chuckled, "I'm the guitarist."

"Oh," Jeanie replied. How mortifying, she thought. But she played it off. "What kind of music is it? My friend only invited me to the after party," she said, pointing over at Nadine, who was slung over the arm of a blond man with curly hair.

"It's alright. We play rock music. Some pretty heavy stuff. Blues and such."

"Anything I may have heard?"

"Probably not."

"You're kidding."

"I mean it, we haven't gotten much radio exposure outside of the AM stations and live performances.”

"I listen to plenty AM, thank you very much," Jeanie said curtly, "I have to go rescue my friend. Excuse me."

Jeanie left without another vote of confidence for Jimmy, her patience having been exceeded a little too quickly. She was glad she hadn't wasted any perfume on her look that night.

"Nadine, let's go. I'm not vibing."

"Oh, come on, Jean, have a smoke, chill out," Nadine replied, her eyes hazy and her own perfume having been overtaken by the stench of reefer.

"Yeah, your friend's right, chill out darlin'!" the blond exclaimed, pushing a joint into Jeanie's face, which she declined with a near comical grimace.

11:45PM

"What would you do if you didn't make music?" Jeanie asked, passing Jimmy the ever-shortening joint that the alleged bassist, John, had rolled for them. After the three long drags she'd taken from it combined with the alcohol in her system, the view from each of her eyes begun to cross. Had she moved her head too quickly, she'd need more than a few seconds to refocus.

One more strong drink and she'd be done for.

"Biological research," Jimmy said, slurred. His eyes had begun to slump shut themselves, yet he remained firm. A drink of questionable color sat by his side on the pavement while Jeanie's fourth (or fifth?) gin and tonic sat empty, the plastic cup ready to blow away in the chilly night air.

She hadn't remembered why they were sat outside. The sweat between the crease of her knees was cool to the touch. The cooling sweat at her hairline reminded her that she'd dragged Jimmy away to sit outside the pub to give her ears a moment to relax. The music inside the pub had been awfully loud to her drunken ears.

"What?" she asked, forgetting her question.

"Dunno," Jimmy shrugged, "It's a stupid sort of thing kids say. That was my thing," he blinked along, the smoke from their shared joint floating past his lips with each word he spoke. His lips were awfully pink for a man his age, she thought. And plump. She felt she was mere inches from his face, but knew she was about a foot away. Even then, she felt that she could almost see his beard growing back onto his cheeks.

"What did I ask?" Jeanie wondered, not having listened to Jimmy's response at all. Her eyes came back to reality, noticing she had been closer to the rear bumper of the car beside her than she was to Jimmy's face.

"If I didn't do music," he stopped, not wanting to exert his brain into saying the rest of the question. Jeanie nodded.

"Ah."

"What d'you do, hm?" Jimmy asked, passing her back the joint.

Jeanie took another delicious drag of the marijuana, eyes fluttering shut as the smoke filled her lungs. She parted her lips and exhaled delightedly. "I'm a receptionist. At an ophthalmologist."

"Do carrots really improve your vision?"

She shook her head, "Load of bollocks. The doctor told me himself." she sucked on the joint. Hard. When she exhaled, she coughed a bit harder than she had anticipated.

"Alright?" Jimmy asked, patting her back lightly.

Jeanie waved him off, "Fine, thanks." She peered down at her watch, taking much too long to focus her vision and noticed it wasn't yet midnight. The night was still young. And she was pissed to high heaven.

"Might have to go soon," she said, giving Jimmy his turn on the joint again. He held it between delicate fingers, letting the edge smolder in the windy night air instead of smoking it some more.

"'s still early," Jimmy tried, scooting his body closer to hers on the pavement. The street was still damp from the morning's rain.

"I know. We started too early," Jeanie slurred. "We should go back in....dance a bit."

"Sure," Jimmy said, standing from the pavement with little difficulty. He placed the joint between his lips and wiped off the backs of his slacks before extending soft, pale hands to Jeanie. She took him gracefully, taking her time to get back to her feet.

Jimmy took a quick drag of the joint, blowing it out as he put it back in Jeanie's mouth. "Done?" she asked. He cleared his throat with a nod.

"Don't wanna get too zoinked."

With a giggle, Jeanie acknowledged his words, "Zoinked is funny," she paused, "You're pretty."

"You're drunk. And high."

"You don't think I'm pretty, Jimmy?" Jeanie pouted.

"Prettier when you're sober," he said, taking Jeanie by her shoulders and guiding her back into the pub, their drinks laying abandoned by the street. "Maybe we should get you home."

"Hm, good idea," Jeanie agreed.

1:59AM

With her bed mere feet away, Jeanie began to strip as if no one was watching. Her clothes began to pile up where she stood: skirt first, shoes next (out of necessity), stockings, and lastly, her bright pink jumper.

Jimmy entered the room seconds later, surprised at how quickly Jeanie had managed her clothes off.

"Mind if I have a piss?" he asked.

Jeanie hummed in agreement, ignoring Jimmy as she pulled her comforter back, exposing her white sheets with blue peonies printed throughout, and diving headfirst onto her creaky mattress. Her pillows and sheets smelled familiar; like home. She smiled contentedly and stuffed her face into the pillow, not minding her makeup in the slightest.

2:06AM

Jimmy stepped lightly into Jeanie’s bedroom, ready to bid her a good night; a rather unusual occurrence after spending an entire night with a woman. She was already snoring when he knocked on the door frame.

“Jeanie…?”

Her heavily exhaled breath was his response.

“Jean…” Jimmy approached the bed. She lay solely in her bra and underwear. He did his best not to stare voraciously at her unconscious body, the curve of her waist, the dimpes in her back. She coughed lightly as she slept. “I’m on my way out…” he continued.

Jeanie stirred, looking over her shoulder at Jimmy. “Stay…I’m cold.”

“I—Jeanie, no, I couldn’t. I’ve got to—“

“Please,” her eyelids opened in mere slits, practically bloodshot with the weed she had smoked.

Jimmy looked over at the clock on her nightstand. He softly stroked Jeanie’s hair and sighed. He’d given way to a woman’s pleas once again. Though he kept his pants on—out of decency—he peeled off the sweat-riddled blouse he’d worn to the Led Zeppelin gig that evening. He wished Jeanie could have been at the show…then asked himself who the fuck would only invite Nadine to the after-party and not the actual show.

He settled into the bed, trying his best not to intrude in Jeanie’s sacred space. It wasn’t long before sleep caught up with him as well.

11:30AM

Jeanie picked at a thread on the sleeve of her pink jumper. “Here’s my number,” she said, handing Jimmy a slip of paper. “Now, you better call me. Or else I’ll have to tell people I fumbled the Led Zeppelin guy.”

Jimmy laughed, scratched at his brow, and pocketed the slip of paper. “I’ll call once I get back home. Today. You’ve got my word. And I’d appreciate if you called me by my full name.”

“And that is…?”

“Jimmy Page.”

“Good name,” Jeanie nodded.

“How’s yours, then?”

“Jeanine Eldridge. It’s no better than Page.”

“Maybe one day I’ll pass it on…” Jimmy winked.

Jeanie blushed. “Go home, Jimmy Page.”

“Leaving, Jeanine Eldridge….” he started away from the door. “Thanks for tea, by the way.”

“Sure…call me,” she said.

“I will” Jimmy answered. He turned for one last look at her. It was different, and filled Jeanie with the same butterflies she had gotten when he kissed her just before she’d poured him tea earlier that morning. She wasn’t one to put out, but something about Jimmy made her want to just leave herself open to his every beck and call. Apart from Jimmy being a world-famous rock star, Jeanie knew this relationship would be different from any other she’d experienced in her life.

---

masterlist !!!

taglist: @knotnatural @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 @hejustsatisfiess @salixfragilis @rosyfingereddawnn @reincarnated70sbaby @starstofillmydream @kyunisixx @blackberryblossom @jimmypages @foreverandadaydarling @lzep @verrbena-in-the-air @groovyysav @mystify1222 @maziecrazycloud if you want to be added to the list let me know!

[bow-of-aros]

One Minute More

Summary:

What if Agent Curt Mega set the timer on the bomb for four minutes instead of three?

Yeah I watched Spies Are Forever again and was seized with a desperate need to make everything better. Also, this was supposed to be like 1k words at most. I just need them to be okay SO BAD. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!! Hope that y'all enjoy <33

Owen fell.

God, what had Curt been thinking?! He hadn’t, is what Owen would tell him. He’d gotten all arrogant and cocky and dropped a banana peel next to a safety guard that he’d dismantled like a fucking idiot.

Curt nearly threw himself down after Owen as he lunged to catch him. His arm was outstretched as far as it would go and he could feel the brush of Owen’s fingertips against his own as he fell out of reach. Blood rushed in his ears, but he could still make out the shape of his name on Owen’s lips before he connected with the floor.

For a moment, everything froze. Curt had the blueprints and the timer on the bomb was set for four minutes, three of which had surely passed by now. He should leave, Cynthia would expect him to put himself and the information over the life of who she thought of as merely an ally.

But then his eye caught on the banana peel that was still up here when Owen wasn’t, then on the still open safety barricades that Curt had forced Owen to leave, and everything snapped back into focus.

This was his fault, and he was not leaving without his partner.

The sound of the sirens blared through the air, punctuated by panicked screams and gunshots that were far too frantic to come anywhere close to hitting their mark. Curt refused to waste another second as he slid down railings and skipped steps, taking risks with even less abandon than usual.

He ducked as some pissed off Russian scientist took note of him and fired a few direct shots that embedded themselves into the wall right behind him. Curt dropped down low, quickly lined up his aim, and took him out with one clean shot to the head.

The stairs shook around him, his subconscious clock alerting him that he had maybe fifty seconds before the silo came down on top of him.

Stupid. Curt was being so stupid.

But then his eyes flickered down and caught on Owen’s prone form, kept from an even more fatal fall due to being caught on a half-closed safety guard. He’s never been more grateful for anything in his life than he was for Owen’s insistence to spare the rest of the silo from harm in this moment.

Suddenly, the breath was knocked out of him, and it was hard to tell whether it was from the burly guy throwing him into the wall, or the fact that Curt could’ve sworn that he just saw Owen draw in a breath.

A fist drives itself into his gut and he decides that it’s probably a mix of both.

“Get the fuck out of my way.” Curt doesn’t even bother with any of the fancy gadgets he has on him, opting for a swift uppercut that has the man stumbling back followed by pouring all of his fear and desperation into a kick to his chest that sends him flying over the railing.

He doesn’t even wait to see him fall past Owen before he’s on the move again, shoving, shooting, and stabbing his way through the hysteria.

That isn’t to say that nobody lands any hits on him. Curt’s pretty sure that he has at least two fractured ribs, is bleeding from a various assortment of knife wounds, and would guess that the burning across his arm is from a bullet. He can’t tell if it’s a graze or fully lodged into bone, and it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except getting to Owen.

Thirty seconds, a voice whispers, and Curt’s heart sinks.

There’s still two more sets of stairs to go down and several people intent on killing him coming up them.

An idea pops into his head, and Curt doesn’t let himself think twice before he jumps.

As he falls, his first thought is that Cynthia is going to kill him for this if he doesn’t die either from the impact or the sheer dumbassery of his actions catching up to him and he just misses the mark entirely. But he’s taken worse risks with less on the line before, and he can’t bring himself to regret it.

He was taught how to fall, which sounds silly, but in his line of work being thrown large distances for any reason was one of the many hazards he had to adapt to. It’s all instinct now, he relaxes as much as he’s physically able to before landing on the balls of his feet.

As the sharp pain of impact begins to shoot up his legs, he falls onto his side, bringing his arms up to guard his head as he rolls away from the edge.

Twenty-five seconds.

Curt scrambles to his feet and, yep, his ankles are twisted at best, but he’s going to wring every last drop of adrenaline coursing through him to get them out of here. He grabs Owen’s nearly fully-loaded gun and takes out the people on the stairs sill looking down at him in shock in quick succession.

Being the best shot in the American Secret Service has its benefits.

Twenty seconds.

Owen’s heavier than he thought he’d be. Dense muscle disguised by a lithe frame and the phrase dead weight hits Curt like truck. Sure, he’s carried Owen before, but he’s always had enthusiastic help from his partner.

That image is quickly pushed from his mind as the fear of never seeing it again seeps into him, and Curt focuses on steading Owen on his shoulder as he stumbles.

Fifteen seconds.

Each step sends pain roiling through him. The extra weight isn’t doing all his injuries any favours, especially the damage he’d wrought on his legs, but Owen’s called him the most stubborn bastard to grace the Earth and Curt intends on earning that moniker.

With one hand busy keeping Owen secured, the other one works to pull him up the railing as fast as he can physically muster.

Ten seconds.

Suddenly, Curt is hit with a sense of startling clarity. The room goes silent, everyone except him and Owen either gone or dead, the blaring alarm fading away and leaving only the staccato sound of his breaths as his company. The pain fades away and a sudden burst of energy surges through him.

Five seconds.

His legs pump in time with the ticking clock as he races up the steps. Curt swings himself around the final corner, just barely recovering his footing before crashing into a wall

Four seconds.

Just a few more steps and then Curt’s out the door with enough awareness to ensure that he doesn’t hit Owen’s head off of the doorframe.

Three seconds.

His legs threaten to buckle as the sky opens up around them, but he forces himself to keep going because, right now, every step counts.

Two seconds.

In a complete disregard of protocol, Curt doesn’t bother to speak in code when he flips on the small radio that Barb insisted he take with him.

One second.

“I need an emergency extract immediately. Owen’s—”

BOOM!

As they fly through the air, Curt’s last few moments of consciousness are spent tucking Owen into his chest and angling his back to the ground.

The cold Russian dirt rushed up to meet him and an unintelligible, high-pitched voice framed the impact that wracked his body.

At least I got Owen out.

And then it went dark.

Curt woke up and, for a brief moment, basked in the comfort of an actual bed.

And then Oh holy fucking shit why does everything hurt?!

His eyes shot open and immediately squeeze back shut after being assaulted with fluorescent lights. The second attempt is much more cautious, the bright room slowly filtering in through the gaps in his eyelashes before it felt safe enough to take it all in.

Immediately, Curt recognized one of the various American Secret Service medical facilities that they’ve managed to nestle in nooks and crannies around the world. It was only slightly better than a regular hospital comfort-wise, but at least the doctors and nurses wouldn’t question the various injuries that agents showed up with.

The steady beat of his heart monitor rings through the room with a faint echo.

Owen.

Curt nearly flung himself out of bed, tearing various tubes and wires out of his body and ignoring the muted agony that sears through him (Thank God for the painkillers he was definitely on because he would not be standing in any other circumstance).

Some sort of alert screeches down the hall, but it doesn’t matter because, at that moment, Curt’s eyes land on a bed on the far end of the room surrounded with even more machines than his was. He distantly heard the sounds of people running into the room, but he’d already staggered over and was looking down at a pale face framed by dark hair.

Owen looked like shit. He was covered in casts and stitches, essentially being held together by pins at this point. His breaths were shallow, the heart monitor beeping much slower than Curt’s had been. He looked uncomfortable, even in sleep, and his face was twisted up the way it normally did when he was having a nightmare.

It was the most beautiful thing Curt’s ever seen.

His legs gave up on supporting his weight and he slumped half over Owen’s bed, being careful to not jostle anything as various medical personnel burst into the room. They shouted at him, telling him to get back in bed, but he could already feel sleep calling to him, all energy seeping out of him with the knowledge that Owen was safe.

Curt managed to smooth a gentle thumb over the crease in his partner’s brow, sighing quietly when it seemed to soothe him into a deeper sleep.

He was out before the first doctor even crossed the room.

The second time he woke up wasn’t nearly as eventful.

It was a slow process, and almost pleasant, like gently sinking back into his body after floating weightless through the space between here and somewhere else.

And maybe he was a little high off the morphine they were pumping into him.

Curt turned his head to the side, exhausted body protesting every inch, until he was able to look at the bed beside him. Apparently the doctors hadn’t wanted a repeat of last time because now he and Owen were placed right next to each other, barely a foot apart.

His smile widened as he caught his partner’s eye. Owen was awake and looking significantly better than the last time Curt had seen him, a little bit of colour back in his cheeks did wonders.

Owen cast an amused look at Curt’s heart rate which had been steadily increasing the longer they gazed at each other before smiling back at him.

“Hey, Owe.” Curt’s voice was rough from disuse and he noticed a water bottle left beside him. He carefully opened it and took a sip, relaxing a bit from the relief on his dry throat. “It’s, uh, it’s good to see you.”

His partner’s grin softened and, with a quick look around, he flipped his hand palm up.

“It’s good to see you too, love.”

Curt took the hint, sliding his hand into Owen’s and giving it a gentle squeeze. When Owen squeezed back, however lightly, it sent and overwhelming surge of emotion through him and he felt his eyes burning.

“It’s okay,” Owen didn’t bother asking what was wrong, they knew each other too well at this point to bother with pointless questions, “You got us out. I’m safe. You saved my life and I’m going to be okay.”

Even with the reassurance, Curt could help but choke out a few tears.

“You almost weren’t though. You slipped on my stupid banana peel that I left even after you told me to get rid of it. And I didn’t let you close the security barricades back up like you wanted to. And—” He cut Owen off when he tried to speak, “I almost set the timer for three minutes instead of four.”

A look of confusion creeped onto Owen’s face. “What?”

Curt let out something between a sob and a laugh. “Yeah. I was standing there, looking at the bomb, and I wanted to show off a bit, you know? I wanted that extra thrill that came with pulling off something that I knew was fucking stupid.” He was clutching Owen’s hand too tight, but he didn’t say anything. “And then there was this voice in my head that sounded like you. It said ‘Don’t do that, old boy. It’ll only get us into more trouble than it’s worth.’ I almost didn’t listen to it, but I had this nagging feeling that wouldn’t go away and, well, I’ve always trusted you. Even when you’re just a voice in my head.”

He gave Owen a watery smile and brought up his free hand to wipe away the tears rolling down his face. “You would’ve died, and it would’ve been my fault.”

“Oh please.” Owen scoffed at that, shooting him a mock-offended glare. “I’m better than that and you know it. It would take more that a several story fall followed by an explosion to take me out.”

He looked contemplative for a moment. “Although, I hope you’ve learned your lesson and plan on actually listening to me from now on. That banana move was moronic and if it had been what did me in, I would’ve put my body back together just to hunt you down and kill you myself.”

They both laughed at the idea.

“Yeah,” Curt said, “Your supervillain origin story: Slipped on a banana and then got exploded. They’d make a comic out of you for sure.”

Silence fell over them, the knowledge that they were both here and alive finally having the chance to properly sink in.

Owen’s expression shifted into something a little more serious. “Curt—” He cut himself off, trying to find the words, “Thank you for coming back for me.”

What a ridiculous thing to say. “Of course I—”

“Ah ah,” Owen tutted, giving his hand a gentle tug “I wasn’t finished.”

Curt leaned back as much as he was able to when already lying down and raised his eyebrows. Well? Go on then.

“You could have left. In fact, I’m fairly certain that Cynthia would have demanded that you do so in order to preserve your life and the blueprints that you had acquired.” Tears were now glimmering in Owen’s eyes, and he took a breath to compose himself before continuing. “But you didn’t. You put yourself in grave danger and through grievous bodily harm to get me out of there. Though Lord knows how you managed to pull it off with the time you had left.”

Curt remembers the sight of Owen sprawled out unnaturally below him. He would’ve done anything to save him.

A thumb rubbing over the back of his hand draws him back into the present and he look back at Owen. Owen with his crooked smile and his soft brown eyes and his hands that hold Curt like he’s something that’s meant to be cherished.

“I suppose that what I am getting at is that I love you, Curt Mega. I truly, truly love you.”

And… Wow. It was like fireworks erupted within Curt at those words. They hadn’t said them yet, maybe afraid that it would make what they had too real. Something that they couldn’t come back from.

But now, looking over at the man that Curt had spent the past few years fighting alongside, getting to know and treasure and love, he knew that he wouldn’t want to come back from it even if he could.

“I love you too, Owen Carvour. I’d throw myself down that silo for you even if I had set that timer for three minutes.

They stayed there for a while longer, simply basking in the glow of still having the other at their side, until a doctor came bustling in and Curt had to quickly withdraw his hand and tuck it safely away at his side.

She chattered at them and, while most of it was medical jargon that flew right over Curt’s head, Owen’s eyes were shining with something like hope, and he knew that they would get through this.

Then, Owen caught his eye, and the small quirk of his lips told Curt that he knew it too.

They could do anything as long as long as they did it together.

After all, spies are forever.

[mo-mode]

All this talk about screenwriting is making me think about the Wayne family TV pilot I wrote over the summer for fun so here’s the link if you want to read it on Tumblr or on AO3. (The AO3 version isn’t finished, but it’s def more accessible.)

Now I’m thinking of actually writing a pilot for that in-universe documentary about PJO’s monsters and mythical creatures. Someone please tell me not to or I will do it.

[justaz]

semi-dark king merlin au, someone from ealdor tells king cenred about merlin and he is captured and held as a slave in essetir. since merlin despises captivity and servitude, he’d rather be dead and free than alive and in chains so he acts out and pisses people (especially the king) off so they’ll think him too much trouble and kill him. at first they stick to beatings until merlin manages to get his chains around a few necks and now has a body count so they kill him…..only he wakes back up a few hours later and king cenred is Intrigued and keeps him close. merlin keeps acting out but no matter how many times they kill him, he won’t stay dead. merlin has this moment after waking up perfectly fine after his twenty seventh death where he is hopeless and believes there to be no escape, not even thru death. a few other sorcerers in chains come and help him clean up and give him a lil peptalk, realizing him to be emrys, and then they revolt and take over the kingdom and crown merlin as king and now uther is like “wtf” bc his neighboring kingdom who was kinda sorta on his wavelength about sorcery, though uther did not approve of keeping them alive, is now a kingdom ruled by magic. he goes to war with them but with magic running free and fucking emrys on the throne, they don’t make a lot of headway. anyways merthur meet on the battlefield, enemies to lovers, you get it

[tapperwaters]

𐚁——𐚁——𐚁—༺♥༻—𐚁——𐚁——𐚁

-> 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐞 || 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐆𝐢𝐲𝐮𝐮 || 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐀𝐔 <-

-> SFW!! <-

Bandit!Sanemi

Bartender!Giyuu

𐚁——𐚁——𐚁—༺♥༻—𐚁——𐚁——𐚁

“Someone did a number on you this time, huh?” Two eyes searched his face, trying to catch his gaze and draw his attention closer.Sanemi didn’t let him see, kept his face turned to the side, and his sights on his lap. He didn’t answer Giyuu’s question, never acknowledged it, not with a grunt, or a shrug, or a sigh. He was silent.

Giyuu’s hands worked softly— delicately— on Sanemi’s abdomen. He’d came in hobbling, barely catching his breath, and with his hand over his side. Blood slivered down the gaps in his fingers, and Giyuu had thought the absolute worse.

“You’re lucky,” He continued after a few beats of silence. “Lucky that there wasn’t a bullet lodged in you.” His gaze flickered down to Sanemi’s muscular body, lingering at his chest for a moment before it fell on the white loops of bandages he’d just finished applying.

Sanemi remained silent before he finally rasped softly, “Can I get a drink?” And looked at Giyuu’s face.

“What for?”

“To numb the feeling.”

“Serves you right,” Giyuu narrowed his eyes, looking up again before Sanemi could avert his gaze. “Now you see the trouble your recklessness can get you into.”

“Please?” He forced his voice steady, and tilted his head downwards slightly, breathing in deeply through his nose to calm his racing heart. He saw a fire in Giyuu’s eyes, but unlike any he could see. It was blue, but it was searing, unlike the sky, or the faint tint of the moon..

He could see it waver, and then almost extinguish. Giyuu’s fingers brushed along his cheek, making him shiver at the suddenness. Giyuu was careful, and gently brushed his thumb across Sanemi’s much paler, much rougher skin.

“I’ll get you water,” He murmured. “Then, you can rest. I don’t want you to have any alcohol, okay?” He saw frustration briefly flash in Sanemi’s gaze, and soothed it with his thumb once more. “Do you want a room? It’s much better than this hard floor.”

Sanemi leaned into his hand a bit as he thought. The upstairs area to the saloon always had a few other people, and it irked him to think about. Right now, he wanted to be completely alone with Giyuu, as alone as he could get, at least.

“..You got your own room?” He asked, and Giyuu blinked at him.

“Yes,” He squinted at him a bit, like he was unsure. “..You wanna sleep in there?”

“Together.” He added quickly, and he grabbed onto Giyuu’s sleeves a bit more forcefully than he meant, if he even meant to at all. “..I don’t want to be alone.” He whispered, like it was a secret.

Giyuu stared at him, long enough to make Sanemi’s heart race. He worried that he’d been too.. too much, he guessed. He worried that he’d weirded Giyuu out.

He as surprised when Giyuu chuckled, and gently set his hands over his. “How else would we be sleeping? It’s my room.” He tilted his head at him a moment after, smiling warmly. “Are you alright? It’s okay, Sanemi—

Sanemi shivered and let him go, pulling his hands away and then nodding. “Yeah, can we just go to sleep?” He blurted, shifting around to pull himself up.

Pain shot through his side, and he grunted, swaying forwards and squeezing his eyes shut, bracing himself for a fall that was sure to come, and sure to hurt.

But that didn’t happen. Hands caught him and stopped his fall, his head was spinning, but he managed to hear a gentle voice soothe his ears.

“..Easy, Sanemi. You’re going to make yourself sick. Let me help you, just relax.”

He breathed shakily as a hand gently slid over his back, and around to press at his ribs gently. The other reached down, grabbing his hand, intertwining their fingers. “..Why are you doing this—“

Giyuu cut him off quickly. “Just push yourself up for me, I got you.”

Sanemi, with some strain, managed to lift himself to his feet while Giyuu gently held him, making it at least a bit easier to do so.

Giyuu led him slowly, holding his hand in his, squeezing to let him know that he really was there. He was quiet, but the touch was all Sanemi needed. Giyuu let go of his hand briefly to open his bedroom door, but before Sanemi’s heart could sink lower, Giyuu’s hand was back, and it’s grasp was firm.

Once sat down at the edge of the bed, Giyuu crouched down and removed Sanemi’s boots, then gently easing him back.

Sanemi felt airy and light the moment he laid down, his head sinking into the pillow below him. When Giyuu’s hand loosened, threatening to slip from his own, he squeezed and opened his eyes. It was embarrassing, but he wanted to stay connected. He wanted their fingers to remain intertwined, and he wanted Giyuu to remain close. He looked up at Giyuu’s face, and paused when he saw his eyes.

They were like two rising suns. Warm and glowing, heating his skin after a cold night the moment they landed on him, making his core feel like it was blooming with comfort. He felt guilty for holding onto Giyuu so tight, for refusing to let him go, for coming back in such rough shape, and worrying him to no end. What did he, Sanemi, do to deserve such a calming look? What had he ever given to be rewarded by the gods above?..

“Don’t let go.” He whispered.

“I won’t.” Giyuu whispered back. “It’s okay. Go to sleep.. You look beat.” He reached down with his free hand, and brushed Sanemi’s bangs back to get a better look at his face. Sanemi’s forehead was warm, which was worrisome. After a pause, Giyuu added, “Rest will make your recovery smoother.”

“You’ll be here, won’t you?” Sanemi fought back at the tug that pulled his eyelids down. He was itching for sleep, he wouldn’t lie, but he didn’t want to wake up alone.

“I’ll be here.” Giyuu responded softly, rubbing his thumb over his forehead. “Just please rest.”

Sanemi sighed through his nose, finally letting his eyes slip shut. The feelings faded from his body as darkness quickly enveloped him.. and he sunk into a quiet sleep..

𐚁——𐚁——𐚁—༺♥༻—𐚁——𐚁——𐚁

[puppetsoftomorrow]

⭐️ the phoebmonster fanfiction masterpost ⭐️

🌟 💛 all complete, but series may be ongoing

multichapter

all these roads lead back to you - 11k

🩷 set around s3, an artefact gives sara and ava the ability to read eachothers minds and force them to stay close. it goes about as well as you'd expect

the day before you came - 13k

❤️ ava hates going home for christmas, so she hires sara to come with her to annoy her family - but will something real come of their fake relationship?

heart of gold - 13k

🧡 sara is a lighthouse keeper and ava is from another world, washed up, all alone, unable to speak and far from home

wild wild whisper - 15k

💛 ava is a lawyer, back in town after fifteen years, sara is a cowboy who never left - will their past drive them apart, or is it not to late to begin again?

for reasons wretched and divine - 20k

💚 fantasy au - ava is a princess on the run, and sara is a bandit with something to hide. loosk like its time for an adventure!!

heaven sent - 12k

🩵 a captain marvel au. sara has no memories of ava, but finds her way back to her. can it work with a lifetime of memories behind them?

flip a coin, decide your fate - 9.2k

💙 the legends all have soul coins, and astra has a hold of them, and gives them a chance to pick them up. written with ginger-canary :)

the girl in the movies - 20k

💜 highschool au - ava is the lead actress in sara's favourite tv show, and transfers to sara's school, but she's not who sara imagined at all

oneshots

the problem with portals - 1.9k

🩷 set in s4 - the five times the legends portal to fetch sara from ava's house, and what they find when they do

in another life (you would be my girl) - 3k

❤️ set after 4x08, where ava remembers the timeline in which sara was killed by the unicorn

half the world away - 3.6k

🧡 what if in 4x12, instead of sending ava to purgatory, neron gives her what she's always wanted?

if only, if only (you were mine) - 10k

💛 high school au - ava and sara are paired together to look after a robot baby for their social studies class - the trouble is, they hate eachother

for science! - 3.7k

💚 based on the brooklyn nine nine drunk scale - charlie and z1 get ava increasingly drunk to see what happens. zarlie!!

vienna waits for you - 4.2k

🩵 ava is a fire warden, alone and in 1989, and her radio connects to the waverider, with sara on the other end of the line

star child, are you out there? - 5.8k

💙 set in season 4a - ava temporaily adopts a baby who's also a magical creature. but what if it's not so temporary?

series

twelve and thirteen - a second ava becomes a part of the legends

now the day bleeds (into nightfall) - 4.7k

🖤 post 4x09 - a new clone is brought in to replace ava as director, and they get to know eachother as ava deals with her breakup with sara

you can see the difference - 6.4k

🩶 ava 13 returns to the waverider to go on holiday with the legends, and lots of introspection for ava

halley and the comet - snippets of avalance family life, with their children halley and grayson

i've been waiting for you - 3.5k

🤍 how the legends escaped from the time prison, as told in a bedtime story

now i stand here looking at the sky - 1.9k

🩶 the legends come around for dinner, as sara is carrying a pretty big secret

my love, my life - 1.2k

🖤 sara and ava's second child is born, and halley meets her brother

tumblr oneshots

these were all orginally posted to tumblr, and were then cross-posted to ao3

you've got a hold on this heart of mine - 1.5k

🩷 post 4x05 - ava comes home from thanksgiving to find sara, and domestic fluff ensues

if you could bring her back to me (or take her from my memory) - 1.1k

❤️ ava's angsty introspection, post the break up in 4x09

you're too much to forget - 0.4k

🧡a series of voicemails from sara to ava, set between the break up in 4x09 and when sara finds ava again in 4x12

no matter what, just be my girl - 1.6k

💛 what happened between sara and ava after ava gets home from purgatory

i'll trade all of my tomorrows (for one single yesterday) - 0.7k

💚 an alternative version of the break up scene in 4x09 - still angst though

got leavin' on her mind - 1.6k

🩵 sara can't brush off atropos' attack so easily - Major Angst!!

(i'm so) afraid of losing you again - 1.1k

💙 an alternative take on the opening for 6x01, written before s6 aired

i thought i'd been kissed and i thought i'd been loved (but that was before i met you) - 1k

💜 an au where sara doesn’t get kidnapped by aliens … or the one where ava gets tucked into bed

i'm just me - 1.2k

🩷 an alternative scene for sara telling ava that she's now an alien-clone. hurt / comfort

it's the happiness of having you (that makes my world a place worth living in) - 2.1k

❤️ my take on the avalance wedding! absolutly nothing like the wedding we got aha

hoping just by chance that i'll get a glimpse of you - 1k

🧡 written based on the 7x05 promo that something goes wrong and maybe ava gets erased for a bit when gwyn's time machine is on the fritz

heaven watches over fools like me - 0.8k

💛 ava and sara play gay chicken - originially from a tumblr prompt

the green green grass of home - 1k

💚 a potential s8 where sara and her baby escape from the time jail

[cloudyskiiees]

hey i wrote a thing! if you enjoy alenoah, time loops, or murder mysteries, check out the first chapter of my new fic! it has all three ;) 

[catstrophysics]

Enjolras/Grantaire • 7.7k • E • Masquerade Ball and Ghost!Enjolras

Invited to a masquerade ball held in an abandoned mansion rumored to be haunted, Grantaire catches the attention of an enigmatic masked man.