#really proud of this fic

[sketchy-galaxy]

Cybervore I - Dissection

Mandroid Cannibalism fic is complete! Happy Early Halloween!

I - II - III

Triggers include descriptions of human organs, dissection, and corpse desecration. Takes places after Episode 10 of ES

Word Count: 3044 words

Dr. Meridian could not believe his eyes. His arachnamechs, which had been tasked with finding and capturing any Cybertronian in the immediate area, had finally returned after a long day. He didn’t care if they brought him an Autobot or Decepticon, it didn't matter. So long as they brought him new specimens for his work he didn't care what badge they wore.

But tonight, they had brought him a dead Cybertronian.

The mech laid on its back, its arms at its side. It was silent. He smiled as he admired the new specimen. Yes, he thought, this would do nicely.

"Excellent work, though I would prefer they be brought in alive." He turned to his creations, disappointment clear in his tone. The large mechanical spiders glared at each other, clicking and whirling. One stepped forward and attached itself to the computer. The drone played a video from its perspective and the man watched with interest.

"How odd…" He said to himself.

According to the feed the Cybertronian had been found like this. It had been laying on the ground, its body was still. The arachnamechs had thoroughly investigated and when the creature failed to respond they brought it back here.

The fair doctor raised an eyebrow. His gaze shifted from the video to the specimen on his dissection table.

He stared at its light green metal plating. It was silver and shined like a brand new car, contrasting the dark metal table it lay on. The face was thin, the hollow cheeks made it appear like a skull.

The optics were dark.

Dr. Meridian hummed, realizing that it had no insignia.

His lips curled into a smile. Perhaps this was another Terran. The new breed of Cybertronian had only just emerged on Earth but the population only continued to grow.

"Well then," He said aloud, the mechs behind him standing to attention," If you truly are a Terran then perhaps it is time to learn what separates you from your Cybertronian kin."

He waved a hand," Arachnamechs, activate the sawblade. Perform a modified Y-shaped incision down the chest and prepare it for a dissection."

The mechs got to work and Meridian smiled. One thing he preferred about his mechs over humans: They never shy away from a dissection.

As the machines whirled above and the arachnamechs scuttled away Meridian searched for what limited information about Cybertronians and their anatomy he had.

During the war, the Autobots kept their anatomy a close knit secret. Only the most important organs, the processor, spark chamber, and fuel pump were known by GHOST. Even the dissection of dead Decepticons was forbidden by Optimus Prime, who howled that it was a desecration of a Cybertronian’s basic anatomy. That their 'funeral rites' forbade it.

Meridian scoffed at the idea then and he scoffed at the idea now.

He adjusted his goggles just as the razor blade touched the sparked metal. The light reflected in the glass but dimmed it from his sight. The grinding sound echoed through the building. The thousands of other robots inched closer and peered down from the shadows. A million red eyes stared. 

Sparks flew up from the metal, the light that was made was blinding. It illuminated the dark laboratory. Meridian watched with a smile. There was no struggle, no fight. This was too easy, he thought to himself. With how much he had lost recently, what with his previous lab now at the bottom of the ocean in pieces and his research left to rot, this was surely a step forward.

The metal blade made quick work of the metal chest plate. It cut through the outer layer but was careful enough not to damage the mechanical parts within. It cut down the chest, sawing through the abdomen, allowing access to the internals of what once was a grand machine.

Once the incisions were made and the body was still, Meridian gripped the controls to the claws above. Each metal claw gripped the edge of the metal plating and pulled back. It was a delicate procedure, the sparked metal was peeled away slowly and the human watched from behind his goggles. The metal cracked as it bended back. The noise echoed in the building but fell upon deaf ears.

Dr. Meridian smiled as the chest was opened further. Finally a step towards learning how these extraterrestrials worked. The man expected to see a spark chamber, whatever it might have looked like.

Instead, as he gazed forward his eyes went wide and he ripped his goggles off his face. He couldn't believe what he saw! His jaw fell open as he stared in abject horror at what lay before him.

No mechanical parts sat in the chest cavity of the specimen.

Within the cavity were a collection of organs. Organic organs. They were a dull pink color in some parts while other organs were red or dark brown. With soft curves rather than sharp angles and edges, they were both foreign and familiar. There were no tubes or wires or circuits that might have been used in processing crystalized fuel.

Realization of what he had been looking at terrified him. He was too stunned to speak. Meridian knew the human body and what organs sat where. He was not an expert on it but he knew the human body intimately.

And, as he looked down at the Cybertronian laying bare before him, Meridian saw human organs. It was undeniable.

Large bright pink intestines that twisted and turned in the abdomen. 

Thick and heavy lungs in the chest with a heart in the center.

He recognized a liver and a stomach and spleen and a pancreas and-

The doctor backed away from the sight. His metal hand briefly touched his face before he reeled away in terror. His own stomach churned at the sight, simply looking at the disgusting mess made him sick. 

He wanted to speak but no words fell from his mouth. In his own chest his heart raced. What was this! What did this mean? He huffed, his eyes looking away from the horrific thing on his table.

It teetered on the edge of uncanny.

Through the pain in his head and shock Dr. Meridian shouted," Enough!" His voice carried through the building and echoed through the walls. His arachnamechs stopped. They watched.

He turned his gaze back to the Cybertronian. Despite the pain in his head he did not flinch from it. He only scowled. Teeth still grinding together, he adjusted his coat and stepped closer.

"No." He sighed, composing himself. He frowned," No, you are not a Cybertronian. And you are not a Terran." He'd seen the scans of their systems and internals. The new species were mechanoids, mechanicals. Advanced robots with trace elements of organic matter. But nothing like this.

The body was silent and did not move. The helm, which had fallen to its side during the dissection, looked ahead with its dark empty eyes.

Meridian picked up his goggles, gently lifting them to his face. Above him, his arachnamechs chirped and scuttled on the ceiling and shelves. They watched, eager to see their master's next action.

"I will know what you are," He gripped the metal railing," Even if that means I will have to tear you limb from limb."

As a scientist by trade Meridian was not one to step away from a challenge.

Finding, understanding, and using information was something he had done for his entire career. It would be no different with this creature here. He typed along the computer, goggles set upon his face to protect his eyes from the bright light of the screen.

It lessened the headache somewhat.

"Arachnamechs," He said absently and his robots scuttled closer," Patrol the area. Ensure no one disturbs my work."

He didn't bother to watch as his machines left the facility. Without them he heard the whirl of his computers and machines echo in the room.

A scan of the creature was… ineffective in determining its origin and revealed some conflicting information.

It was indeed made of sparked metal. It had some evidence of energon within its body. That much was evident as it let off a steady pulse of energy. It was Cybertronian.

But it lacked Cybertronian organs. It had no spark. Instead all of its internals were replaced and set in a way that was obviously meant to mimic the human body. It was organic.

Dr. Meridian leaned away from his computer. The data that he had obtained was useless.

He sneered at the results, frustration taking hold.

His eyes flickered back to the corpse. The building ache in his head had become a slight nuisance if nothing else. Slowly he took the controls of the claws above. They descended, clicking as Meridian thought.

Maybe this creature was neither? Perhaps GHOST in all of their ambition had attempted to make a Cybertronian and human hybrid. An abomination that rivaled Frankenstein's beast by comparison.

Perhaps that is why it was left to rot in the woods.

Meridian peered down at the organs below, humming to himself. Slowly the claws picked at the organs. One pinched at a clump before lifting it into the air.

No sinew or muscle clung to the organ. It wriggled and twitched as it was lifted higher and higher. The long organ spasmed, lurching and shifting in the air. Biologically, it was not so dissimilar in shape to a human small intestine.

It was larger, fit for the frame it had come from but had the same light pink hue. 

Meridian didn't realize it but he had been holding his breath.

He exhaled, long and hard as he watched the squirming organ. It was a disgusting sight, watching the organ twist like an eel.

What compelled it to move? Dr. Meridian thought. Cybertronians lacked muscle, the way the organ shifted without assistance implied it was an involuntary response.

It twisted in the claw and Meridian tapped the keyboard and allowed the claw to shift towards the railing. The long organ trailed out of the still body. He left the side of his computer, stepping forward as the claw stopped right in front of him.

Meridian peered at the organs. Standing so close to the massive entrails he felt overwhelmed by the smell. It smelled like energon, the oily substance reeked of the earth and ground. It made him sick. Despite this, his eyes peered closer until he saw what appeared to be minute veins stretch just underneath the skin.

Meridian's eyes narrowed. They were bright pink as he assumed energon flowed through them.

Surely it was artificial.

He reached out to it with his right hand.

He hesitated. The dark green plating reflected the bright light above. He frowned and, after a moment, Dr. Meridian switched to his left hand.

His fingertips brushed the material. It was undoubtedly made of an organic material. The ‘skin’ was smooth, the veins underneath it were pink with energon. His thumb brushed over the skin as he lifted the organ in his palm. It was heavy and warm, thick with whatever flesh lay within. A fine layer of slime coated the organ, reflecting the light in the room.

The organ pulsed in his palm, wriggling like a worm. When squeezed the organ's skin dipped under the pressure. Whatever was inside of it, whether it was muscle or something else, it was firm. It shifted again. It felt real.

Dr. Meridian frowned.

He let the organ fall back. As it swung back and forth it moved as if alive, almost reaching out to him. He opened his mouth to whisper. On the tip of his tongue he tasted the stale air.

"Fascinating…" Was the sole word to escape his lips.

And it truly was. Whatever this strange creature was, it somehow had organs identical to that of a human. All the while, it had energon coursing through its body. The swinging organ slowed. It hung still but the muscle continued to contort and twist. Dr. Meridian turned away from it, walking swiftly back to his computers.

This would require a much closer analysis.

The rest of the dissection was a delicate and clinical process. Meridian watched the computers as data filtered through the screen.

It was going to be a long night.

The man's eyes narrowed at the screen. Another scan revealed that the organs were indeed connected. The small intestine to the stomach to a throat that stretched up the neck of the creature. Where the trachea separated he saw it connect to the lungs. Arteries and veins connected from the lungs to the heart, spreading throughout the body. It was impressive how well this creature had been able to replicate the human body. 

His gaze flickered to the corpse before focusing back onto the computer. The body was still, a sharp contrast to the shifting organs within.

Meridian absently rubbed his fingers on his palm as he watched the simulation. His metal digits were warm as they traced the lines on his palm. The slime was thin and wet within the grooves.

His gaze focused on the information. He did not look at his palm.

The ghost of the heavy organ remained. The soft curves, the tight skin, the warmth of it. His fingertips brushed over it. He wanted to reach out to hold it again, to feel it’s warmth in the palm of his-

He jumped, shaking himself from his thoughts. He had to remain focused. 

Meridian pushed a button on the keyboard and allowed the computer to run a simulation of the organs if they were to truly work. Watching silently, Meridian traced his palm again. His mind sank into itself. Attempting to make sense of what this thing was.

Perhaps GHOST had not made this creature. Yes, he considered the possibility of the Cybertronians being responsible for this abomination. After all, they had many disguises at their disposal. Vehicles, objects, animals, as far as he had seen. What was stopping them from using a human form?

Was this the Cybertronians desperate attempt to infiltrate human society? Had they not done enough damage, bringing their violence and war to this planet?

Meridian looked at the body and glared at it. Renewed hatred boiled inside of him. Was their invasion of the planet no longer a physical but a societal goal? Was this abomination simply a prototype?

What other organs would it develop, he wondered with this new information. 

Would the metal plating slough and turn to muscle? Would the processor in the head turn into a brain, would the eyes curl and grow cones and rods? Would skin grow over the frame?

Would this half-breed worm its way into human society, furthering the future of Cybertronians living among humans not as warmongering extraterrestrials but as faux humans?

Dr. Meridian took a chair and sat down with a scowl. He leaned forward and watched the completed simulation as his hands folded in front of his face.

Everything perfectly mimicked humans' biological systems. The stomach, intestinal tract, and colon broke down material and expelled it. The lungs take in oxygen and through aerobic respiration converted it to water, carbon dioxide, and ATP for the body.

The only difference was the heart.

Instead of pumping blood through the body the heart pulsed and sent energon through the veins and arteries. Despite the fact that the body did not require four chambers, the heart still behaved as though it needed to oxidize blood.

The simulation of the body's functions played on the screen. The light reflected off the green plating of his hand. Behind his goggles Meridian tracked the flow of energon into the body. How the body would break it down, how the energon would flow into the 'bloodstream' and the energon would be delivered throughout the body.

There were still many questions to be asked of this creature. How long would it take for it to become a human? Why was it dead in the woods, alone? His head tilted and his gaze fixed back onto the body.

That was of very little concern to him. No matter what it was or why it was here, Meridian refused to allow these beings to slip into a society they did not belong in. He would find these creatures and purge them from his planet. He would protect humanity from these extraterrestrials and the world would be at peace.

He would rid the world of all Cybertronian-kind.

Something tapped his leg and Meridian leapt to his feet. His chair was pushed to the ground, clattering loudly against the metal floor. The man shouted, a brief bout of terror shocking him to his senses.

Standing still beside him was an arachnamech. It watched him with red eyes, tilting its head to the side. His shoulders relaxed, his expression softened. The mech tilted its head back and beeped once. He exhaled. 

The spider droid lowered the claw it had used to tap his leg. It hissed and then turned and walked away. He watched it. The click of its claws was gentle. It, like its brothers, had returned from their patrol. They must not have found anything, their behavior was quite lax.

Meridian huffed, straightening his shoulders and coat. Very rarely did he miss the sound of his approaching mechs. How much time had passed since he began, he wondered while ignoring the growing pressure behind his eyes. He turned his gaze back to the computer. The simulations continued to play over and over.

He removed the goggles, the band was squeezing his head and making his headache even worse. Unfortunately this did nothing to stop the pain in his eyes caused by the light.

With shaky hands Meridian stopped the simulation. It froze and he covered his eyes with his metallic right hand. It was quiet for a moment but the sigh that escaped his lips was one of pure exhaustion.

Meridian dragged his palm down his exhausted face. His eyes were worn, his hands was shaky and useless, and his headache grew worse by the minute. He was exhausted and a familiar sharp pain in his abdomen only pushed him to the brink of collapse.

Dr. Meridian was starving.

And unfortunately he had nothing to eat.

[grey-viridian]

Based on hollow mind by @crows-murder

Thanks for the inspiration and a lot of pain)

Here is a version without a shield (it doesn't make sense but I just like it. You can see the fear in Leo's eyes much clearer>:3)

Aaand the original sketch (which I also like so I'm showing it to you)

[howtotrainyouragents]

Folding Laundry, Spy x Family mini fic

Decipher the intercepted report. Prepare intel for Handler. Pick up groceries. Loid ran through his seemingly endless list of tasks, calculating each step of execution and strategizing on the most efficient plan of action. But when he set the laundry to fold on the couch, Yor appeared with a smile.

“Let me help with that.”

It would take two minutes and thirty seconds to fold it himself, and he only had three minutes to spare on this mountain of clothes before he had to start on his patient files. But Yor was humming a tune as she started separating the clothes, and, after a moment, he sat down beside her and quietly started folding. 

The afternoon sun streamed in, warm and fuzzy. Bond yawned disinterestedly at them and shuffled into Anya’s room. Sitting so close to Yor, Loid wondered again why she never seemed to wear perfume. 

Focus. Like any operation, Operation Strix could collapse in an instant if he wasn’t vigilant.  There was the slightest tension in Yor’s shoulders, a slight discomfort or unsureness, that he’d noticed before in these very quiet moments. 

“Do you miss your life before this?” He asked, blunt in a way that only a moment like this could allow.

She looked up, surprised. Her eyes drifted to the window as she absently smoothed the creases in Anya’s frock. Loid found his next breath hinged on her answer.

“In an odd way, yes.” 

He knew it. Operation Strix was in danger.  He had to find out more, a way to fix this. He had to keep this fake family happy for the sake of world peace.  

Yor continued on. “After my brother and I came to the city, I was by myself. I kept a small apartment. Just a bed, a kettle, a few clothes. I didn’t go out much, didn’t have friends really.  Yuri would visit, of course, but he was busy with work.” 

Loid tried to picture this life and found a familiar echoing pang. “That sounds lonely.”

Yor shrugged. “It was all I knew. Pain doesn’t feel like pain when it’s all you know. But this?” She looked around, noticing the room and him in the same way he’d done. “This is unfamiliar. And that’s harder.” 

Her eyes widened, and red colored her cheeks. “Not to say that I don’t want this or- or I’m not grateful!” She rushed to explain. “This is arrangement has been the best thing to happen. It’s just…”

“New?” Loid supplied, though it wasn’t quite the right word.

She hurried through the folding, and a moment later, nervously asked, “Do you miss your life before this? I mean- I mean, before Anya and your first wife?”

Loid slowly buttoned the shirt he was folding. He remembered the brutal military camp he infiltrated to get close to an officer. The snooty soirée to seduce the minister’s daughter.  The loud explosions of the battlefield.

“There wasn’t much of a life before,” he admitted.

She nodded gently, and the slight tension in her shoulders eased. And to Loid’s surprise, so in his. They folded the rest of the clothes, taking in the warm sun and noises from the street. 

He gathered his clothes and she took the rest to hers and Anya’s rooms. Putting them away, he ran through his list of things to do again. He’d wasted too much time. He still had to prepare reports and patient files and get dinner. But the buzzing, stomach-turning anxiousness to get everything done had quieted, and that left him nervous and paranoid.

 So when he heard a ruckus, he rushed to Anya’s room, grateful for something to snap him out of this calm. 

Anya had gleefully seized Yor’s interruption to abandon homework and was playing spy with Bond and her toys.

“But Agent Anya, what about your homework mission?” Yor cried in her TV-spy voice. 

“The mission is in trouble! Agent Anya needs hot coca to save the day!” Bond borfed. “And cookies!”

“Okay, if Agent Papa says it’s okay to take a break,” Yor said, turning to him standing in the doorway.

“Agent Papa!” Anya saluted. “Hot cocoa and cookies!” 

Their eyes were shining bright in excitement. Bond wagged his tail. The house wasn’t just warm with the afternoon, but with the joy of this little fake family.

Loid remembered the cold of the military camp sinking deep beneath his clothes, leaving him freezing and sick. He remembered the bitter bile taste of choking back his words when highbrow ministers spewed hateful words.  He could feel the splintery wood of the makeshift cot as he lay at night, waiting for bullets to rain down on them in the morning. 

He put on his best impression of Handler for his waiting family, but he suddenly understood what Yor was talking about. All of his past lives were hard. Terrifying even. 

But not as terrifying as this. 

[mahi-does-some-art]

What if, instead of the Sorcerers' Society being just a small organization with a headquarters, it was instead a hidden city or capital where not only could sorcerers go to for assistance and to get their licenses, but could safely live and learn without having to put so much effort into hiding their magic from general human public? (Something similar to Witch Hat Atelier perhaps)

A hidden away capital with houses and apartments and magical shops selling everything a sorcerer would ever need. Where they can safely converse on the street and network and apprentices can talk to each other and swap tales of their lessons and masters.

Out in the expanse of the human world, it's hard to come by each other so having a place to live like that would be great.

But also it would make Solomon getting chased out by a dragon so much funnier (or sadder) since he and the mystery apprentice would have been the ones to found the Sorcerers' Society in the first place.

He would probably own his own house there and come back there whenever there was a meeting he had to attend or some urgent matter to discuss. Solomon wouldn't stay there longer than he usually had to and his property is usually empty.

But when sorcerers usually take in an apprentice, that apprentice lives with their master in order to make the most of learning opportunities and a lot of them tend to move back to the Sorcerers' Society for convenience.

If Solomon was able to convince MC to live with him for "educational purposes" completely separate from the brothers and Devildom, who's to say he wouldn't give living amongst his peers an honest try once more?

[pandeesall]

Happy Birthday, Noire!🎉

@north-noire Hope u had a good one!🎂🎁🎈✨

[kaelidascope]

I love them in every universe 🪷💛💜

[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

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

Dress to Impress Chapter 1: Open Invitations is out right now on AO3!!!

Illustrations for the fic under the [read more], but I do suggest to try and enjoy them in a fic for more fun experience. ;D

Thanks for checking it out. ;3

[gingerale13]

2 scenes from the fic where Scout gets stuck in a time loop -- Going Through The Motions by the wonderful @aussie-bookworm! GO READ IT ON AO3!!

+ Alt versions under the cut

[theriverbeyond]

Rated E (18+) | 4.8k words

“I’m not a child, Pyrrha,” he says. Cam’s face is pulled into a scowl, and you like the way the skin between his eyes furrows. It’s different from how Cam does it, and you think it’s cute, and painfully endearing. “I’m—shit. I’m twenty-two, if you count the years post-mortem. Twenty if you don’t, and House age of majority is eighteen regardless.” “I was twenty-two long before the Resurrection, ten thousand years ago,” you reply. The eggs you’re trying to cook sizzle. “You’re too young for me, Sextus."

This fic was written for Fandom Trumps Hate 2024 (@fandomtrumpshate) as a gift to thank @beyoncesfiancee for her donation to Palestine Children's Relief Fund.

FEATURING:

Pal/Pyrrha, ft background Cam/Pal/Pyrrha dynamics!

What if we were both stuck in a body that didn't fit our gender OR necro/cav alignment.... and we were both on New Rho👉👈!

Notable Cougar Hunter Palamedes Sextus!

Psychosexual roleplaying AND bad meals!

Background Nona antics!

Wild speculation on how DIY hormones might interact with a Lyctoral Body!

The ever present shadow of grief!

[foxprints]

Self indulgent drawing of Murderbot <3 It and ART are cruising through space, just the two of them, and Murderbot is relaxed and comfortable. ART has more than a few feelings about this and saves an image to its archive -- unfortunately Murderbot is aware of ART watching it and it flips off one of the drones.

(it doesn't dislike the attention ART is giving it... it just makes it a bit flustered!)

See some bonus images (including ones without text) below the cut, along with an explanation of some of the design choices!

I am 100% in the camp of Murderbot having a much more expressive face than it realizes, especially when it's alone and/or comfortable.

All text in the images with a color block behind it is essentially metadata that ART has attached to any tag it makes for Murderbot.

The blue inorganics are purely because @hazelek found a post with early 2000s vibrant, semi-transparent tech and we were joking around about MB getting aesthetic upgrades lmao.

About half the tags in the last image are courtesy of @scificrows alkdjfl;kj thank you dearly for those additions!

[sirmanmister]

💥💥💥 BOOM POW GET KILLED GET KILLED GET KILLED!!!!!

This is a redraw from January 6 2023, in honour of it being 1 YEAR since I posted the last chapter of The Father(s) and Son(s)!!!!! A little bit over a year actually because it was April 10th and it took me a little while to draw this lol

So much has changed in the span of a year omg. And for THE BETTER?? Like I’m going to school, I made and lost friends, I’m slowly but surely getting over some social anxiety (still a wip tho!!! 😭😭) and I’ve found so many cool mutuals and artists and just!!!! AAA!! Not to mention my art skills have improved a whole HELL of a lot!! LMAO

I don’t write as much as I did when I wrote my fic initially, and I feel bad for that sometimes, but it’s just a testament to how things have gotten a lot better for me and it’s not bad that I’m busy. I’m still trying to cobble together some more writing to eventually get another fic out, cuz I do genuinely miss it, but we’ll get there when we get there!

Anyway. TYSM TO EVERYBODY THATS STUCK AROUND FOR SO LONG/CAME HERE FROM MY FIC IN THE FIRST PLACE I LOVE YOU ALL AND YOU MADE MY LIFE BETTER!! 🫶🫶🫶🫶

Pspsps closeups/old pic under the cut!!

[dustykneed]

god mcspirk is so terrific. i love when jim and spock scheme together (ok jim schemes but he ropes spock into it too and spock just can't say no to his captain) to fluster bones.

sometimes jim just wants to see his boyfriends make out with tongue... is that too much to ask?

prompt fill for @mcspirkevents' mcspirk bingo prompt "sloppy kissing" ←⁠(⁠>⁠▽⁠<⁠)⁠ﾉ

[babykittenteach]

"They sat on the edge of the heated indoor pool, jammies rolled up to their knees, hands almost touching, legs dangling in the water. They’d abandoned their robes and slippers on one of the poolside chairs. Ed wasn’t gonna say anything, but he was a little bit chilly without it."

-from "A Little Haunting, Isn't it?" by @adamarks, done with permission.

[lover-of-mine]

I need to read something buddiee.... Whats your favorite buddie fic? And your favorite that you have written? If you don't mind sharing ofc! Thanksss~

My all time favorite buddie fic is listen to you breathing (is where I wanna be), I legit reread this every month, it as presumed dead fic that makes me cry my eyes out every time but it is AMAZING. @buckgettingstruck recommended me Buck Day Afternoon and I've been thinking about it since I read it lol. when the hardest part is over is a short Eddie begins coda that I think about all the time. the stick-around fundamentally changed me as a person and has the best opening line I've ever seen in fanfiction. Don't take the money is time loop lawsuit fic that might be the only good lawsuit fic I've ever read. drench yourself in words unspoken is a fic where everything is the same but Eddie is a best selling romance author and Buck is reading his books that I just love. a night in early october is a shorter getting together fic that I read a lot because it feels warm, I don't know how else to explain, it makes my heart warm.

And written by me, my favorite fic I've written is tell me how it feels (say it ain't so) and i love that it is my most popular fic lol it's a fic dealing with the cemetery scene. Followed by it's gravity after all, where Buck and Eddie are trapped in an elevator and talking shit out. Wedding bells were just alarms is my most recent fic and has my favorite getting together I've ever written, where Buck proposes to Natalia, picks a fight with Eddie and they proceed to have a really bad week. I need to recommend this one because I want people to read it even tho I know why people aren't reading it, but in too deep to find a safe way out it's a very short, deep with the imagery, unrequited love type thing of Eddie realizing his feelings during madneys wedding. And people seem to like in case you don't live forever, that one is Buck and Eddie trapped in a collapsed building.

[non-un-topo]

More fic storyboarding instead of actually writing (x)