Put in the tags the completely finished (whether cancelled or wrapped up on its own terms) TV series that has YOUR perfect ending, however you define that
Please donât include huge spoilers for the specifics of the endings, and it would also make me happy if people donât use this to talk about the shows whose endings they hated
The parking attendant paused by the double-length bay. Intended for mobile homes and cars with trailers, it was currently occupied by a sleeping dragon.
No parts of it extended beyond the lines, and the paper ticket was clearly displayed, impaled on a horn.
Happy TFR anniversary! Canât believe itâs already been a year since THIS happened
The lines were inspired by Will You Go? by brilliant_or_insane and itâs one of my favorite post DR fics. I knew it was familiar to me and Iâve probably seen it from a fanfic but I couldnât remember which, so many thanks to @rebeccasteventaylor for finding it out!!
benthan wip i never finished and probably never will [720 words]
post final reckoning reunion
The world is saved, and Ethan Hunt is scooped up from some cattle farm in South Africa and shuttled off to DC. He would have preferred to stay on the farm for a while longer, the endless meetings and psych evals and health checks and briefings and debriefings begin feel like a far greater risk to his life.
This is why Ethan Hunt does not have an office job.
His life is snap second decisions. Action. Not the long drag of waiting rooms and meeting rooms and- everything else that the US government does that isnât him. Yes, he did all of those things and yes, he jumped into the Bering Sea: can he please go home and sleep now.
The light at the end of the tunnel begins to emerge when he is dragged into a meeting and Benji is there too. Itâs not easy but he mostly keeps a straight face and powers through as best he can. Heâs not stupid enough to trust anyone in the government with his genuine reunion with Benji. He doesnât want to share that with anyone. Benji does wear him down a little though. Knocking their knees together under the desk every so often and eventually breaking his own composure in response to Ethanâs antics.
âSorry what?! You took the suit off? In sub-zero waters. Water that is below the temperature that should, by all rights, be its freezing point.â
âBenji, can we not do this now?â
âYou are fucking mental, you know that donât you?â
âBenji? Later, please?â Benji looks at Ethan, properly this time, and picks up on the exhaustion written on his face even if nobody else can.
âYeah. Yes of course.' He glances up at the suit behind the desk. 'Sorry continue.â But then he throws Ethan a look of sheer bewilderment, and mouths the words âwhat the fuck?â Itâs impossible for Ethan not to crack a smile at that. At least some things stay the same.
The roles are reversed once he hears Benjiâs side of the story, what happened in the server room in South Africa and the fact that Benji got shot. Nobody told him. Benji could have died down there, and nobody would have told him. Just the thought of that aches like heâs got the bends all over again. His hand twitches and his chest burns like his lungs are collapsing in on themselves. But he canât let that show now. So, no matter how much he wants to he canât pull down the collar of Benjiâs shirt and inspect either of the wounds that must hide there. The small slit in the skin where Benji apparently instructed Paris to shove a whiskey-soaked pen. Jesus Christ. Ethanâs no stranger to this life of danger but he doesnât think he could ever get used to the idea of Benji in pain like that.
[handwavey leaving and going home]
Before either of them can say a word Ethan takes his left hand and places it around the back of Benjiâs neck, supporting his head and gently pulling him forwards. Benjiâs forehead touches his and Ethan shuts his eyes. Just soaks up the feeling of Benjiâ live and solid against his skin. Ethanâs other hand skitters over Benjiâs torso. From his waist to his arm to his chest and back again. Ethanâs not sure if heâs checking for damage or just taking the opportunity to touch Benji. The difference probably doesnât matter right now.
âYouâre safe. Thank you thank you thank you.â Ethan says it like a prayer. As if heâs saying thank you for everything you did, for being alive, for being here now. He hopes the message is conveyed even if he canât say it all.
Benji allows Ethan all of this. Makes no attempt to intervene or get away. So Ethan thinks enough of the message gets across for now. After another minute of this Benji begins to reciprocate, gently placing his hands on Ethan's waist and moving his thumbs up and down.
Benji smells good. Slightly sterile from recent surgery and the fact that he hasnât had a good shower since then. He likes nice shower gels usually. Things that Ethan doesnât think about but vaguely recognises from bottles in expensive hotel bathrooms. Things like patchouli or oud... Ambergris is another word he doesn't know the meaning of but has in case of emergency. He moves to bury his face into the collar of Benjiâs shirt. Chasing the scent and the warmth.
blakekathryn
germansingergirl
prguitarman
romaincrisis
janainaart
vaporwave
turnnoffyourmind
dailybridgerton
