#willing to take one for the team hoping he can make this shit change finally and stop the insanity

[travelingtwentysomething]

Not to be that bitch but

(T-shirt for the Revolution)

no but as cheesy as it was the train scene in spiderman 2 is truly untouchable. spider man risks his life (again) for his city, and prevents a train from going off the rails, but passes out from exhaustion. four hands come up from behind him, and pull him into the train. the passengers look down at him, his mask off, and comment about how he’s just a kid. you can see it in their faces. he’s not familiar. he’s not memorable. he could have been any one. they give him back his mask, and help him to his feet. 

[hurricanes-art]

I spent way too long on this not to inflict my Fairy Tail Racing AU on the world. On my life I'm never drawing a lineup of this many characters again, but goddamn it the B Team dynamic is tragically underutilized and I had to be the change I want to see in the world

It’s a modern with magic au where Laxus is a race car driver and Gajeel's his mechanic (why yes I am biased) and racing also involves mages fighting to get the upper hand so it’s all suitably over-the-top and dangerous. Additional ramblings under the cut 😘

Laxus is a powerhouse of a mage, a world-class driver, and an all around asshole, feeling perpetually stifled by his family's shadow over his career. Makarov finally kicks him out of his racing group (fairy tail) after yet another incident of "intentional recklessness" that endangered the rest of the group this time. He's chastened, but he's also dead-set on taking the chance to prove he can be just as successful without his gramps' resources backing him, which means he has to scrounge up a team for himself.

The unexpected sticking point turns out to be finding a new mechanic. Laxus inherited his car that's famously powerful and specialized and also extremely high maintenance, even by the standards of their batshit magic race cars. Of the few people skilled enough to fix his car, no one's also willing to take on the workload of constant, intensive repairs required after every race Laxus drives. They say he stands a better chance of changing cars than finding a mechanic

—

Gajeel is a down on his luck iron mage after the bad crowd he got involved with years back finally got busted for a lot of borderline illegal shit. He's got a good head for machines and using his magic to shape himself into any tool he needs makes it uniquely intuitive and efficient for him, but the reputation he landed himself with leaves him struggling to find any work. Gajeel's incessantly self-reliant and lowkey too penitent for his own good as he reaches the end of his rope.

First, Juvia tells him her new friends in Fairy Tail say Laxus still needs a mechanic and she urges him to go for it. Then Ivan tries to recruit him to his own group, counting on him to roll with their constant misconduct given his own track record. And then Makarov approaches with a proposal to get enough intel to disband the Raven Tail group and promises a stable job once it's done. Gajeel needs something, but Makarov needs him to work with Ivan, and Ivan demands him to work for Laxus, and Laxus can't get any other mechanics to work for him, so Gajeel's suddenly drowning in work trying to satisfy all three of them.

—

So, Laxus manages to form enough of a team to keep racing. The Raijin Tribe is a given, they're unwaveringly loyal to Laxus and determined to be part of his team. Mira is a very welcome surprise who joined out of a fondness for Freed and an admirably steadfast faith that Laxus can change his ways and succeed. Gajeel's a necessity that Laxus hates at first, surly and standoffish, but his work gets undeniable results. Juvia is reluctantly recruited by Gajeel since she learned first aid by patching him up countless times, and she keeps threatening to quit and apply to Fairy Tail, yet she never goes through with it. Cana clicks with the group so naturally that they're not sure exactly when or why she joined up with them, and they constantly forget she's technically not on payroll.

The team’s dynamic would be smooth sailing if not for Laxus and Gajeel. Laxus doesn't trust him in the beginning, and he resents that he's bad for Laxus's already bad image. Gajeel gives everyone the cold shoulder and automatically assumes they wouldn’t care about him so he doesn’t try to bridge the gaps. They're forced into proximity when Gajeel has to teach Laxus more about the inner workings of the car so he can minimize the wear and tear of his driving, because if he doesn't adjust, there's no hope of him getting by with only one mechanic.

At the start they're both stubbornly combative, but soon enough they're too exhausted to nip at each other and they find they actually work well together, and even get along in the ways that they earn each other’s respect. They rely on each other- Laxus on Gajeel for his safety and for the ability to race at all, and Gajeel on Laxus for his livelihood and his bid for a fresh start- too significantly to not develop a consideration for one another. They're important to each other, whether they like it or not, which they’re going to need as the competitions keep getting more and more out of hand.

—

It goes on to vaguely follow the Raven Tail plotline, and I have a lot more thoughts about the Laxus n Gajeel development and how the others come into play, but I don’t have the energy to organize all of it right now- Maybe at a later point, or if people want to ask. If I were a more powerful artist, I'd design the car too, but I ain't doing that shit

bonus lineart bc i like it

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 13 (Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

I feel like this is the first time in a while that I've posted a chapter in a reasonable amount of time. I'm so grateful for everyone's patience with me while I write. I appreciate every single like, comment, reblog, and tag request so freaking much. As things slowly get better in my personal life, I hope I can continue to post for you all regularly.

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 2.4k+

You weren’t sure if you were going stir crazy on the unit, but you swore all eyes were on you when you walked on to the unit for your next shift. But it wasn’t even 7am yet, you hoped that maybe your coffee just needed to hit. Word spreads fast at the nursing station, you knew that much. Maybe it got out that you weren’t renewing your contract and took a staff job elsewhere? You weren’t necessarily well liked, especially by the older nurses and some of the resident team. But you were respected, or so you thought. 

You looked up at the board to see your assignments, two walkie-talkies… this was gonna be a hard day.

Lisa, the career night shift nurse, who ran strictly on caffeine and spite, raised her eyebrows at you, “don’t go starting a fling with your patient assignments today, Y/L/N.”

Your stomach dropped but you had to play it cool and just ignore it, “I’ll receive report when you’re ready.”

The day was absolutely exhausting, with two patients that could walk and talk but were not fully orientated to their environment. Half of your day was spent cleaning them up since they were incontinent and the other half was spent trying to keep them from getting out of bed on their own and falling. And in an understaffed military hospital, there were no sitters who could watch over them, just you and the coworkers that were willing to help… which wasn’t all of them.

Madi nudged you, “Hey, are you working tomorrow?”

You shook your head, eyes laser focused on the computer. You were so behind on charting, you were drowning.

“Let the girls and I take you out for drinks tonight.” She said, “To celebrate your new job.”

Your eyes darted to her, “How did you know I got another job?”

Madi smiled weakly, “Word travels fast when you’re surrounded by a bunch of boomer mean girls.”

You snorted, that was the perfect way to describe the older nurses on the unit. “Okay. But nowhere fancy. I just wanna shower and throw on a nice pair of jeans.”

“Hard Deck?” She suggested, “Maybe that cutie boy with the mustache will be there and can drive you home.”

Your voice dropped lower, you didn’t want to be heard, “You mean my boyfriend?”

Madi’s face lit up, “So it’s true.”

You bit your lip and kept my voice quiet, “How did it get out? I swore Carly to secrecy.”

“Dr. Parks is fucking a nurse down in the ED, the one that took care of Bradley…” she matched your quiet tone, “She told him and he told Maggie, the certified yapper, and it spread like wildfire over the past couple days while you were off.”

You buried your head in your hands, “The last two weeks of this contract is going to be absolute hell.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Y/N: Shit day at work. I’m gonna meet the youngins for drinks after I shower and change. Carly’s driving me, will you drive me home?

Bradley: Of course, sweetheart!

Y/N: We’re going to the Hard Deck, you should make an appearance if you’re feeling up to it. 

Bradley: Drinks with my favorite girl, at my favorite bar? Abso-fucking-lutely

“How ya doin’ kid?” Maverick asked, he and Bradley finally had a moment alone after the last briefing before breaking for lunch.

Rooster smiled, “Besides still being sore as fuck, better than I’ve ever been.”

“The nurse?” Mav inquired.

“Y/N,” He corrected his uncle-like figure, “She’s more than a nurse. She’s like… my favorite person in the world.”

Maverick smiled, “Your dad used to say that about your mom. He’d say, ‘Yeah Pete, you’re one of my best friends. But Carole, she’s my favorite person in the world.’”

“There’s no one better to be second best to, I guess.” Bradley chuckled.

“Third best, once you came along.” Maverick shrugged, “And that was absolutely okay with me.”

“I think we’re gonna take a trip to her hometown soon, before her new job starts.” Bradley said nervously.

Mav nodded, “Which means you’re probably gonna meet her parents… Does that scare you?”

“A little, it just hurts a lot that she can’t meet mine… she’s so much like Mom but not in a way that’s, like, weird. But in a way that she’s comfortable and familiar.” Now Bradley was really opening up. Maverick tried not to look too excited. “The first time I ever brought her back to my place, I offered her a drink before things… happened. And she looked at me and said ‘Take me to bed or lose me forever’. I don’t remember much of Mom and Dad together but I remember her saying stuff like that and it made my dad laugh so hard.”

“Do you have any pictures of her?” Maverick asked curiously.

Bradley pulled out his phone and pulled up a selfie he took with Y/N at the Hard Deck a few weeks ago, just a few hours before that amazing night they spent together. 

“She’s a pretty girl, Brad.” Mav said, “She seems sweet too.”

“She is,” Bradley agreed, “she’s also smart as hell, full of attitude and wit. She’s… she’s everything.”

Bradley sat down next to Bob at a table with Phoenix, Fanboy, and Payback.

“We’re going to the Hard Deck for Thirsty Thursday, Roo.” Payback said, “You coming or are you gonna be too busy hanging out with your girlfriend?”

He smiled at his friend, “I’ll be doing both.”

“Yeah, Y/N and the nurses are all gonna be there tonight.” Phoenix added.

Bradley was taken aback, “How did you know that? She just texted me about it…”

Phoenix shrugged, “She texted me too. Is that allowed, Bradshaw?”

He chuckled, “Of course it is, she loves you.”

“See any other cute nurses for the rest of us during your last hospital visit?” Fanboy asked, “Time to spread the wealth.”

“You know how Phoenix loves a woman in scrubs.” Bob added with a wink in her direction.

Nat kicked him swiftly under the table.

“Unfortunately, no.” Bradley chuckled, “I was too busy having my ass handed to me by Y/N for not calling her.”

Fanboy choked on his water, “You didn’t tell her you were coming to her place of work after being ejected from a fucking plane?!”

“I had to call her and tell her.” Phoenix rolled her eyes, “Because I had a feeling he fucking wouldn’t.”

Rooster shrugged, “I have since learned the error of my ways. It’ll never happen again.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

You loved that your weekend was being kicked off with a Thirsty Thursday. Since you knew you had a safe ride home and no one at work respected you anymore anyways, you decided to let loose a little bit. Carly brought a round of tequila shots to your high top table, Sam followed closely behind with a round of hard seltzers.

Madi laughed, “We’re chasing our shots with more alcohol to drown our sorrows about Y/N’s contract ending.”

“And because she’s leaving us for labor and delivery!” Carly passed you a shot and a High Noon, “It’s only right that we get her fucked up!”

“Cheers to Y/N surviving the next two weeks being the talk of the unit!” Sam held her glass up.

Everyone did the same and clinked the shot glasses together, tapped them down on the table and then choked the shots back and chased with the sweet yet still alcoholic taste of High Noons. It was the first time since college you had a head rush like that.

“Lisa told me not to hook up with any of my patients when I got report from her today.” You rolled your eyes.

“Fuckin’ bitch,” Sam snorted, “Maybe if she got laid for once she’d be a little more tolerable.”

You, Madi, and Carly all burst into a fit of giggles. Sam was known for always saying the quiet part out loud, even if it got her some glares. Her strong backbone is what’s helped her survive as a new young nurse starting out in a military hospital’s intensive care unit.

As the silly conversation went on, you found yourself peering at the door every once and a while, waiting for Bradley to walk through it… You also noticed Carly doing the same thing, a hell of a lot more than you were. There was an air of nervousness about her. Who was she waiting for? It better not be some shit head straight out of basic training, or worse, Hangman. 

“Next round’s on me, girls!” You pulled your card out from your wallet.

Carly slapped your hand away, making you drop your credit card, “No way, Y/N! We’re treating you all night.”

You tried to argue but Madi talked right over you, “We’ve already decided this. You’ve done so much to help all of us during your contract, more than the nurses who were supposed to train us.”

You shook your head, “Not really…”

“You taught me how to give report without shitting my pants and to organize my lines.” Carly said.

“You taught me to talk to patients whenever I’m assessing or doing anything to them, even if they’re intubated and sedated because it helps with agitation.” Sam added.

“You taught me to double tourniquet for tough IV placements to help the veins really pop out.” Madi said, “I almost never miss now!”

You puffed out your lower lip, “I’m really glad you all are saying these nice things while I’m sober. If I had anymore alcohol in me, I’d be ugly crying.”

All the girls’ faces lit up and then a familiar raspy voice said, “Sweetheart, you couldn’t do anything ugly if you tried.”

You jerked around and jumped into Bradley’s strong arms, “I’m so happy you’re here!”

He held you for a moment, rubbing your back, “The day didn’t get any better?”

You shook your head, “Not until I got here with these girls.”

“Now that you’re nice and distracted, I’m gonna go grab us another round.” Carly smirked at you and Bradley, finally releasing each other from your embrace. “Can I get you anything, Rooster?”

Bradley passed her his card, “You can put it on my tab and let me help you carry stuff. The usual suspects are at the pool tables and would love to see you guys.”

“Meet you there?” You suggested.

Carly and Bradley nodded and made their way to the bar.

Sam took your hand, “I’m so scared of all of them, the guys are so fucking hot.”

You giggled and gave her hand a squeeze, “Don’t be scared, they’re all really nice. And don’t let them know you think they’re hot, it’ll go to their heads.”

You were catching up with Bob and Phoenix when Bradley and Carly appeared with seltzers, beers, and shots. Their hands were so full.

“Aw, let me help you.” Phoenix cooed and walked up to… Carly? She kissed her sweetly and took half of the drinks from her hands.

In that moment, everyone stopped and stared. Processing what they just saw.

“Surprise!” Carly squeaked and smiled awkwardly.

“How did I not put this together?” Bradley chuckled, handing you a High Noon.

“You’re gay?” You asked the two of them in disbelief.

Bob cut in, “Natasha’s gay and grass is green… we’re stating the obvious, right?”

Everyone burst into hysterical laughter.

“Hey, hey,” Phoenix said, “I think she directed that more towards Carly than me.”

Carly looked at you with concerned eyes, “I only just kind of figured this part of me out. Are you mad at me? For not telling you?”

You shook your head, “No! Of course not!”

“So let me get this straight… or gay,” Hangman started.

Coyote rolled his eyes at his best friend, “Here we go.”

“I’m called a total creep for chatting up the cute young nurses but Phoenix starts dating one of them and doesn’t get any shit?”

“That’s ‘cause you are a fucking creep!” Payback called out, making everyone laugh again. 

You walked over to Carly and wrapped your arms around her, “I’m so happy for you, kid.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Bradley flipped through all the tracks on the jukebox on the other end of the bar. He peered behind over his shoulder and saw Y/N, drunk and happy by the pool table with his best friends. She was talking to Fanboy about something that had her really worked up, Bradley could see the passion all over her face and in her gestures. She was setting Mickey straight on something, wagging a single pointer finger in his face as she spoke. 

God, she’s the fucking cutest. Rooster thought to himself before turning back to the jukebox.

Y/N had asked him to pick a classic for her. He had to find something that was giving old school, 1970’s joy. And he found it. After adding the song to the queue, he swaggered back over to his girl, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist mid rant.

“What’s got you all fired up, Sweetheart?” He chuckled and pulled her close.

“Fanboy thinks that Legally Blonde isn’t a feminist masterpiece!” She spat and glared at his teammate with disdain.

Bradley chuckled, “Grow up, Mickey. Everyone knows that Legally Blonde is an excellent movie!”

“Yeah!” Y/N cried out, snuggling her back closer into Bradley’s chest, “Grow up!”

Fanboy was getting a kick out of riling Y/N up, “It’s not realistic!”

Before Y/N could bite back, the starting lines of Bradley’s jukebox pick started playing. Her eyes lit up and she turned around in Bradley’s arms to face him.

“This is a classic!” She squealed happily.

Bradley sang to her and let his hands wander down into the back pocket of her jeans, “You can rely on the old man’s money! You can rely on the old man’s money! It’s a bitch, girl, but it’s gone too far, ‘cause you know it don’t matter anyway. Say money but it won’t get you too far, get you too far.”

And just like that, everyone in the bar was boppin’ along to Hall & Oates. When the next chorus came around, everyone was singing. Phoenix playfully bumped Bradley and Y/N as she danced and sang with Carly. Hangman, Coyote, and Bob used their respective pool cues as microphones and sang their hearts out like everyone’s own personal background singers.

Y/N sighed happily in his ear.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, baby girl?” He asked softly as the song came to an end.

She pulled back to look at him with her big doe eyes, “How happy I am, here, with you.”

He rested his forehead against hers, “That’s so funny, I was also thinking the same thing.”

Tag list:

@sarah-bear706318

@dizzybee03

@that-gay-person-27

@alwayshave-faith

@caitsymichelle13

@thespillingvoid

@shanimallina87

@amiets2

[squeakyleftsneaker]

Watching Voltron for the 1st Time: S2 Ep. 8-10

Hi so in this post I have a mild to moderate case of headloss in the extreme. Just a fair warning! I WILL lose it! MORE THAN ONCE. Anyway if you want the lore on why I'm watching this ancient show on a sketchy website in 2025, CLICK HERE! But if you don't want to read The Lore then the short version is that I am Afraid of middle schoolers. These episodes have been some of my favorites so far, and so this post is going to be A BIG ONE.

DUDE THIS SHIT RULES

Shiro said "I'm taking my emotional support Keith" and good for him

I keep singing "The Real Blade of Marmalade" in my head to the tune of Lady Marmalade by Christina Aguilera.

Keith and Shiro heart to hearts are the backbone of this show dawg. And Shiro's winged eyeliner. He really kills it there.

"Ulaz had a penchant for ignoring orders and following impulses" HM THAT SOUNDS LIKE KEITH and Shiro thinks so too because Shiro is immediately defending him. Based, true, etc.

I LOVE that Shiro has never seen this damn knife and for all he knows Keith stole it and Shiro is still willing to fucking blow it all up if he has to. For such a control freak he's got his limits

Wow Keith is SHORT I guess his alien parent we're still pretending is a surprise didn't impart the tall genes onto him

Shiro has an unshakeable faith in Keith which. I would like to see shaken for The Plot but also would love to see reinforced in a way that Saves The Plot.

Bye ofc his hallucinatory dream of deepest desires is Shiro. And ofc Shiro is deeply disturbed by this. AND THE FACT THAT HE CHANGES HIS MIND ABOUT DIGGING DEEP INTO THE KNIFE TO FOLLOW SHIRO AT THE END?

I'M. HIS DAD IS A FUCKIGN. COUNTRY BOY? A FUCKING YEEHAW ASS. WHAT

I'M .

THE FUCK YOU MEAN HIS DAD IS. A FUCKING ALIENFUCKER????? WHAT IS HAPPENING

KEITH'S MOM GOT THIS YEEHAWASS COWBOY PREGNANT AND I'M SUPPOSED TO BE OKAY WITH THAT???

KEITH'S UNNAMED MOTHER FUCKED THIS YEEHAW MAN???? WHAT IS HAPPENING DAWG

I LOST MY MIND SO HARD I POSTED ABOUT THIS I CAN'T COPE WITH THE KNOWLEDGE THAT KEITH IS THE PRODUCT OF A YEEHAWASS KENTUCKY FRIED ALIENFUCKER AND AN ALIEN AND HIS NAME IS FUCKING KEITH

I'm. Reeling. I've lost it.

Shiro murking everyone and starting a whole diplomatic incident to get to Keith is such Keith-coded behavior. Cute.

"It doesn't matter where I come from, I know who I am" Yeah you're Shiro's... whatever they are.

Lance getting a mousie smooch got me to crack a smile I am growing fond of him

Hunk and Keith are a fun duo when they stop making Hunk the butt of a cruel joke.

AND having Hunk be the one to figure out how to get the scaultrite? GOOD. LET HIM BE SMART FINALLY FFS

Keith getting betrayed by some mf he helped poor dawg

STOP KEITH IS DOING SOME BABY LEADER SHENANIGANS WITH HUNK???? CUTE. CUTEEEEEEEEE. SHIRO WOULD BE SO PROUD

Shiro with Slav is me with the writers of this show. My god. The headloss. Next level. I love. I also love Slav, who is almost at my level of compulsive ritual doing. I can match his freak I fear. Shiro absolutely losing it over this guy is like. Peak to me.

Lance's insecurity moment NAUR I SURE HOPE THEY EXPLORE THIS FURTHER AND DON'T JUST RESOLVE IT OFFSCREEN

Shiro finally feels like he's around my age and not aged 80 years by space jail and all it took was someone who matches my freak in disordered thought I COULD FIX HIM MAMA

There Is Still Some Factor Of Suckage

These trials were concocted in a way that I think was. Hamstrung. I think they could've done a little more! No shame in taking inspo from the many many tests for Jedi/force sensitives in Star Wars. The "You are not meant to go through that door" fighting is cool, but there could've been something transitioning from that better into the Acid Trip Dream

Really disappointing that Keith didn't get a magical girl transformation into an alien when his knife got a magical girl transformation.

HOW THE FUCK DID THEY THINK IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO NOT SHOW US THE FUCKING REVEAL TO THE TEAM THAT KEITH IS AN ALIEN

WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM

THEY FIND OUT KEITH IS ALIENISH AND WE DON'T GET TO SEE IT???? THIS BIG PIVOTAL CHARACTER MOMENT WHERE WE CAN SEE CHARACTERS REACT IS GOING TO HAPPEN OFFSCREEN FOR W H Y

I'M SO

MY HEAD IS ON MARS FIRST THEY GET ME A HALF-ALIEN HALF-COWBOY NAMED KEITH CUNTRY NO LAST NAME AND NOW THEY DO ALL THE PIVOTAL CHARACTER RELATIONSHIP SHIFTS COMPLETELY OFFSCREEN?????? I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE DAWG I AM SEETHING

THIS IS LIKE THE ONLY SHOW I CAN THINK OF WHERE THIS WOULD HAPPEN

Would it kill these writers to stop making Hunk the butt of a cruel joke every 2 seconds it's really genuinely so grating

I'm sorry I'm still not over it tfym they had a key moment happen completely offscreen and just moved on from that

Are they

Stupid

What

This episode really felt like a nothingburger filler beyond giving us Shiro going insane with this annoying little predetermination creature, because it set up Lance feeling insecure and then we just have to. Pretend it's resolved? When it's not? Like him having one good shot isn't like... an actual resolution and. Why. Why are we. I might go insane if I keep thinking about this.

WHY DON'T WE GET MORE SHIRO AND PIDGE BONDING OVER KNOWING HER FAM

Speaking of did Keith know Pidge before? Presumably Shiro knew of Pidge because like. If your other 2 mission partners are related and have a smart lil family member they would talk about them. And Shiro seems like he'd defend his Emotional-Support-Stray-Cat-I-Mean-Keith at all costs so like.

ACTUALLY NVM THESE WRITERS WOULDN'T GIVE A FUCK

THE HIGHS AND LOWS OF THIS SHOW GO FUCKING CRAZY BECAUSE TFYM WE HAVE MORE THAN ONE WELL THOUGHT OUT EPISODE DETAILING THE DEGREE TO WHICH KEITH AND SHIRO RELY ON EACH OTHER AND THE WAYS THAT TRUST IS ESSENTIAL TO THEIR SURVIVAL BUT WE CAN'T HAVE ANYTHING ELSE FUCKING HAPPENING ON SCREEN AND HUNK AND LANCE HAVE TO BEG FOR SCRAPS

MY HEAD IS ON MARS

NO

MY HEAD IS ON KERBEROS ATP IDK HOW I'M GOING TO MAKE IT THROUGH 8 SEASONS OF TS

[soapybutt17]

You Are My Sunshine

Summary: In which a year into your relationship, you began wandering if it's time to tell your father about your secret relationship. Characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Price!Female Reader. John Price. Simon Riley. Soap MacTavish. Word Count: 2,441 Chapter Warnings: None A/N: Got Carried Away and just turned it into a whole ass one shot series.

for @glitterypirateduck's GazFest 2023 Category: One-Shot Prompt: "I always knew this day would come"

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open

“Really sure I can’t drive you up to your boyfriend’s house?”

Trust your father to make things more complicated than it needs to be. You know what his true intentions were and you weren’t about to bite—yet. You shared a knowing look with the man that was not just your father (step-father, but it was beside the point anymore) but was also your Captain. So much was riding out on his offer and you weren’t about to deal with the mess that would come after.

“I’ll be fine, Dad.” You reassured hugging him hoping it was enough to distract him. “I’ll call you when I get there, I promise.”

With a sigh, his arms wrapped around you in his resignation for the topic. You truly didn’t know until when you could keep this charade up with him. Especially with the man he was hunting down so close to the both of you. Maybe it was time to finally come clean and maybe it wouldn’t be as hard as you think it would be,

“Maybe bring him in for the New Year? I’m sure your Mum would love to have him over.”

You rolled your eyes realizing your father wasn’t relenting on this topic just yet.

“When I’m sure you’re not gonna threaten him—or kill him, I’ll think about bringing him to meet you and Mum.” You gave him the option instead.

“Fine.” He muttered finally pulling away from you. “Keep safe and if you change your mind, I’m one call away, I’m sure your Mum and brother and sister would love to have you for Christmas.”

You sighed.

“Maybe next year, Dad. Please bring the gifts I’ve sent to them with you, okay?”

You heard a knock at the door and the sight of one Kyle Garrick had interrupted the little moment you had with your father. You shared a knowing look with the man and knew his reason for coming to your father’s office. It’s time for the both of you to head out.

What you father didn’t know and hopefully the rest of the people in the base, was the small fact that the boyfriend your father and both Ghost and Soap were more than willing to hunt down was within arm’s reach. The cheeky bastard even played the part so well in having his own ideas of beating the living shit out of himself with the rest of the team. Oh if only they knew.

“Ready to go, Nyx?” Gaz inquired.

You noticed your father’s brow raising in question.

“Gaz lives nearby my boyfriend, Dad.” You explained so easily. “Thought I’d save gas and drive with him to my boyfriend’s place.”

“Alright.” He nodded before his attention slowly turned towards your secret boyfriend. “You know what to do for me, Sergeant?”

“Yes, Sir.” Gaz answered so easily.

“No, Gaz. You will do no such thing.” You snapped turning your attention to your father. “Don’t drag Gaz into this mess.” You muttered making your way towards Gaz.

“Send the coordinate to me when you can.” Your father continued but the smile on his face was enough of an indication that he wasn’t serious about it anymore than he really was.

“Dad!”

“Have safe drive you two. Call me when you get there, understood?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Take care of my daughter, Gaz.”

“Yes Sir.”

Walking out of your Father’s office, silence had enveloped the two of you as you walked further away. When you were certain the distance was good enough, you finally held onto your boyfriend’s hand, how easy it was for him to hold onto your own in a firm grip.

“You think we should finally tell your father about us?” He inquired turning his gaze towards you for a moment before his eyes turn back in front of him as you two continued walking.

“I always knew this day would come.” You groaned rubbing your temples with your free hand. “Think you’ll be ready to deal with my Dad?” You inquired.

“More than I already do? I think I am.” He snorts. “If it means not having to lie to everyone’s face and we could be less—secretive and I think the reward would be better for everyone.”

He was right.

You know your father had this unprecedented rule in the base that so many other base have enforced with an iron grip. Relationships within the base were allowed to a degree, for as long as no one would let it hinder with their jobs or missions. It was a small little change that had so much impact for the entire team. Ghost and Soap were also few of the people that made the most out of it with their own significant others working in with the Medic Team.

But amongst the leniency that Captain John Price had decreed, there was an open secret that every single personnel was informed off, some even say that it was one of the first rules given to the new recruits when they arrive. No one is to date his daughter.

“After the Holiday?” You offered hoping it would be enough time to prepare for the inevitable chaos that would happen after the holidays.

“Enough time to enjoy the last days of my life, I think?” He teased.

“Kyle.” You warned, already worried for his safety now.

“Everything is going to be alright. We can ask Nikolai for help if we ever need it.” He continued earning a light nudge out of you.

One mission that had you, Gaz, and your father, it was somehow prophesied by one Nikolai that you and sweet Gaz would have cute babies together just to get a rise from your father. But that somehow, you end up getting together with the Sergeant just a few months after and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Eventually, with your bags gathered and the two of you now shoving everything you have onto the truck it was time for the couple of hour long drive to the Garrick Household for Christmas.

“You think they’d like me?” You inquired leaning against the door of his red Opel Corsa car he got with his first paycheck.

“They’ve been pleading to meet you for months now since they learned about you. I doubt anyone would hate you.” Gaz reassured cupping your checks.

You took a moment to check your surroundings for anyone that could possibly recognize you before you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend. His own arms pulled you right into his chest.

“Even if I’m a Military Brat?” You asked, knowing it was the preconceived notion everyone had on you when they found out about your association with the Captain. You wouldn’t be surprised if his family would also share the same view the moment they meet you.

“Far from it. Mum and Dad are already planning our wedding and how many kids we would have. So I doubt they think so lowly of you.”

You laughed at the statement. You did envision yourself with Gaz and the little family you could have in the future. But it was all too soon to think of in the present. But it was a certainty that you hope would happen in the future you have together.

“Can I named the babies or do they already have name planned as well?” You asked nuzzling your cheeks against his chest.

“A few name suggestions were thrown, but we can veto some as far as I’m made aware.”

“Kyle Junior would also be a good name for a baby boy?” You continued hands rubbing his back knowingly. “You’d like that don’t you?”

“We’re not playing this game in the middle of the parking lot, Love.” He groaned.

“Inside your car would seem a better setting then?” You egged him on.

“Nyx.” He warned, hands falling to the curves of your ass.

“I’m joking.” You giggled pulling him in for a quick kiss before finally letting go.

You tensed as you looked out into the base, the sight of Ghost and Soap gaping at the sight of the two of you.

“Let’s go.” You muttered opening the door immediately giving Gaz a whiplash for the sudden shift in your attitude from a few seconds ago.

“What?” He turned and from the window of the passenger seat of the car, you could see the shock also written on his face as he made beeline to the driver side of the car.

Without another word, Gaz had started the car without turning back or even acknowledging the fact that your secret was now exposed to two of the last people you would have allowed to know about your relationship now.

“We’re fucked.” You muttered under your breath as soon as you heard the familiar ring tone of your phone and the all too family name of your father that was now made aware of the little interaction you had with one Kyle Garrick.

~

“Now I understand why you love her so much.” His mother was quiet for the most part, allowing him and the rest of the members of the Garrick Family and extended family to bring life to the childhood home he had grew up in.

Kyle could only nod, watching you as you continued on with your conversation with his sister and brother-in-law about some TV series that you’re excited to begin watching again while off-duty. It brings so much warmth inside of him to see you like this, so comfortable and in peace in a place that was his own.

All the worries of his family not liking you or the chaos that came with Soap and Ghost finding out about your secret relationship was put in the backburner for the time being. All that was important was the moment where you two were.

A time where he wasn’t out in some isolated country or in knee deep shit looking for enemies alongside you. You both were in a normalcy that doesn’t come often with either of you anymore because of your chosen profession.

“Hey Mum,” Kyle finds himself turning his attention back to his mother. The smile on her face as she caught him looking at you was all the sign he needed to push forward with what he was about to ask. “Think I can cash in on your offer about your wedding ring in the near future?”

Christmas in the Garrick Household was a success and true to Kyle’s words, everyone loved you. It was just like you to be loved by anyone and everyone you would meet. Contrary to your call sign of Nyx, you were a ball of sunshine that constantly lights up the room, only dimming at the most frail state of mind or during missions. You gave him the sunshine he had thought was lost in him throughout the time of blood and gore he had experience in his career.

Who would have ever thought the incident in Piccadilly would not only shape his career, but the future he never thought he was still allowed to have in his life when all was said and done.

“No funny business.” You had teased him the moment you both settled into his childhood bedroom for the night.

“Never said there was.” He teased you right back, pulling you into his bare chest.

The single bed wasn’t really good for either of you to stay in, but it was better than having to sleep in separate rooms for the night. He maneuvered the two of you until you were now resting completely under him. A smile was on your face, eyes a little glazed over from the few drinks you’ve shared with the rest of his family and your skin tinted a few shades of red because of it. But you were still the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on.

“I’m happy.” You spoke plopping your face onto the crook of his neck. Arms wrapped around his chest.

“Meet too.” He admit. He was happy with you in his life, happy that there would come a time in his life that he would want to hang his boots and throw his uniform down the deepest depths of his closet but he would still have you in his life. It was worth being happy about for him.

“I never thought they’d actually like me.” You continued.

“Didn’t I say that a few good too many times throughout the car ride?”

“You did. But still. Actually seeing that they would like me was something I never thought would happen.”

“I can’t see a reason why they won’t like you if I’m being honest.”

“You’re just saying that because you love me.”

“Touché.”

“Now I’m actually excited for you to meet my Mum too.” You pointed out, heading lifting up to meet his own. “My Mum would love you. She already has an idea of you from Dad but genuinely meeting her in person, I know for a fact that she would love you just as much as I do.” You beamed.

“Will she now?” He smiled, surprised by the sudden shift. “And your Dad?”

“It might take a while for him, but I know he’ll come around. He’s just always been like that growing up.” You shrugged.

“How about we head to your place for the New Years?” He inquired.

With his phone shut off and your own turned off after sending both of your parents a quick text of arriving in your boyfriend’s home safely, he thought it would be a better time as any to finally have clean slate and throw the cat out of the bag.

“Really?”

“Better to rip the bandage off now than when we’re back in the base.” He shrugged, he could only imagine the drills he will be thrown in because of this.

“If you’re not up to it, we could wait a little longer.”

“We agreed that we’d do it after the holidays but since the jig is up because of the two bloke, I think it’s a good time as any. Good to also meet your Mum and siblings while we’re at it.”

The smile on your face grew bigger as you slumped right back to him and peppered his face with kisses as you continually thanked him for dealing with you and for anything that your mind could come up with.

But what you didn’t know was the small little box hidden deep inside his bag and the question that he was about to ask from your father when he meets him—after a good beating if he’s lucky enough to come out alive from.

Part Two: Light of My Life

[anemicjellyfish]

WIP I Write Fics in the Laundry Room Wednesday!

Yeah, I don't have much to share for WIP Wednesday. So, I figured I'd post the Helluva Boss dream I had the other night.

This can take place pretty much any time within the current timeline of HB. The only changes I made from the dream were mostly dialogue additions and making the scenery more consistent. I hope you enjoy!

IMP Gets a Nintendo Switch- A silly Helluva Boss ficlet

As shady, slimy, and selfish as Greed is, it does at least have the largest entertainment center in Hell. Mammon's Middlehand Multiplier houses dozens of games, arcades, casinos, and everything in between.

Just ignore a few dozen or so dead loan sharks out back, keep your wallet secure, and have a fantastic time (because the slot machines definitely aren't rigged against you)!

As the owner and founder of IMP, it has always been Blitzø's responsibility to keep his business afloat. Which is why it is especially disappointing for him to have gambled away most of his savings today. After finally getting kicked out of a kiosk for shoving cards down the dealer's throat, Blitzø began to search for the two employees he brought with him today.

Except this sinful shithole is built like a maze. Stalls and kiosks litter the walkways, competing for space with larger establishments along the way. It reminds Blitzø of the disgusting shopping malls on Earth. He finds himself a little grateful that he rarely gets clients that make him wander through department stores and aromatherapy massages.

Blitzø finally manages to track down his two employees. Moxxie is excitedly showing off a small cardboard box to his wife, Millie, who watches him with her eyes full of stars.

"Blitzø!" Moxxie calls out. "Win anything big today, sir?"

Blitzø rolls his eyes. "Eh, you win some, you lose some." Blitzø pats the empty wallet in his back pocket, not willing to admit to himself just how much he didn't win. "Damn, Moxx, whatcha got there? Tell me it's some fancy weapon!"

"Even better," Moxxie replies, holding up the blank cardboard box, "it's the most elegant string instrument ever made: a violin."

Blitzø's eyebrow raises. "Uhh, vio-lence?"

"Blitzø," Millie interjects, "it's for playing music. Moxxie's gonna learn to play for me."

It was as if little pink hearts appeared between the married couple as Millie gives her husband a kiss on the cheek.

"Ugh," Blitzø complains, "save your lovey-dovey shit for your stupid vanilla bedroom, you two. Now, let's get outta this shithole before I lose more than just my money."

Moxxie frowns, but allows Millie to take his hand and lead him forward, the box only partially obstructing his view.

Blitzø looks around the labyrinth. Fuck, finding their way out is gonna take all night.

As Blitzø turns to M&M, he clocks a shark eyeing them from afar. Something in that fucker's expression put Blitzø on edge, but he continues forward. Turn after turn, the shark keeps pace with them. Blitzø taps his tail on Moxxie's, then Millie's: a silent signal to them that the team is being "tailed," literally.

The three imps nod to one another and split up. Mammon's Middlehand Multiplier was a large enough complex to allow for a few dark alleyways here and there, with enough vantage points for a skilled assassin to keep watch on a situation, should they need to.

When it was clear that the shark was following Moxxie, Blitzø and Millie made sure to corner him in a narrow spot between an aisle of empty claw machines and a partially burnt casino.

The shark is already trying to pry the box from Moxxie's hands when Blitzø places a hard kick to the back of his head.

"Okay, fuckface!" Blitzø shouts. "Leave my employee and his stupid-ass vio-lence music thing alone!"

Millie rushes to Moxxie's side, helping him up from the ground as he gathers the now-torn box in his hands.

"Listen here, asshole imp!" The shark replies, rubbing the side of his head. "I'm getting that shit back to my boss now, and I'm not gonna let three little shits stop me!"

"Well," Blitzø fires back, "I'm these little shit's boss, and I ain't letting nothing happen to them or their stupid little music strings!"

The shark laughs. "Music? Your stupid employee took the wrong prize, dipshit. I'm taking it back where it belongs."

Moxxie looks into the holes of the box. "Oh, crumbs... this isn't a violin at all!"

"Is that..." Millie trails off as she, too, looks into the box. "Oh, FUCK YEAH, we are keeping this!!"

As the shark lunges toward them, Blitzø grabs his gun from his coat pocket. The shark freezes, and after a heated standoff between them, he relents.

"Fine. I guess I can just steal another Switch from someone else. You three fucks aren't worth my time."

The shark slinks off, but not before tripping Blitzø with his tailfin on the way out of the alley.

"The fuck's a Switch?" Blitzø asks.

"It's a video game system from the living world," Millie explains, "with all kinds of fun games installed!"

Moxxie holds the box in his hands, silent.

"Oooooh," Blitzø replies, "is that the Mario Kart thing that a client hired us to kill a guy over last month?"

"Sure is!" Millie said.

"Alright!" Blitzø shouts, lifting a disappointed Moxxie into the air. "Let's get our asses back to the office and play ourselves some games worth killing for!!"

Millie chases Blitzø and her husband through various sections of the entertainment center, eager to take first place in any game they play.

She'd already won the best prizes any imp could ask for: a great boss, a fun job, and the most wonderful husband anyone could ask for.

[abilouwrites]

VOLLEYBALL SZN

Heavily inspired by @brokenanxiety headcannons of mat barzal dating a vball player ‼️

Mat Barzal x fem reader (volleyball player)

Im a senior in collage. #87 on NYU’s volleyball team for varsity. My boyfriend does his own thing, hockey for the islanders.

Usually our schedules don’t line up, I’ll have a game and he has training. He has a game and I have training. The only time they’ve ever lined up is during training camps. But even then we can barely see each other. And even then our training camps have a no fraternization rule.

The islanders have never been too fond of sharing facilities with a collage v ball team.

“We had a game forfeit so are you still good with me coming to see you play” he whispers into my ear as I rub lotion onto my forearms in preparation for the bruises.

“Mm, if you want too. Usually they make you practice instead right?” I ask as Mat watches me braid my hair and raise it into a ponytail.

“Yeahh.. but I told the guys about this and they wanted me to come.. they’ll probably show up halfway through and bring the team out for pizza” he tells me as his hands rub up and down my thighs.

“Really? You’re willing to feed a group of starved varsity volleyball players after the biggest tournament of the season?” I inquire turning my head around to face him. He’s still all smiles and giggles with his head laid into my neck.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Never”

Games are always fairly similar; the same nervous buzz that leads into the locker rooms. We all have matching hair.

“You nervous?” Astrid asks as we stretch out and set and serve eachother for our warmups.

“Always, but mat is here for like the first time ever and I’m so nervous” I grin a little bit

“Isn’t he the one you hooked up with junior year? At the training camp?” She gasps out, “holy shit you’re dating?” She whisper shouts which attracts the attention of our other teammates

I nod, “but Shh. We need to win this tournament”

The blonde nods as she puts on her knee guards.

It always feels cheesy when I say that Mat’s cheers are the only ones I can hear against the roar of the crowd. I feel like I’m gasping for breath as I’m diving and saving.

I’m knocking my head sometimes; scrambling for the ball and using my arms to save it.

We end the game in overtime, winning barely with a 2 to 1 score.

I change back into a baggy shirt instead of my uniform but I don’t have the care to change out of my shorts, “Do y’all want pizza?” I ask as we gather up our bags and let our hair out.

“Yess, but who’s buying?” Ella asks as she cracks her knuckles

“Mat, and his team. They said they were gonna take us out for dinner” I inform and Ella grins before rattling out the most Ella like sentence I’ve ever heard

“Do they now how much we can eat?”

“No. No they do not”

There’s six girls, plus six other 6’+ hockey players. It’s a bit of a feast, “fuck are we starved” Abby smiles as the majority of the girls eat.

I’m happily seated next to mat with his hand on my thigh as we eat, “did you have fun?” I ask him

“Yeah, the moms weren’t too thrilled seeing a hoard of hockey players screaming about volleyball” he laughs softly and I smile at him

“Im still really happy you came”

“Me too”

It’s a laughter seeing the team astonished at how much a group of girls can eat after four games and the final five to win.

Mat drives me home and I’m falling asleep in the car ride home, “you must be tired, huh pretty girl?” He smiles against my skin as he brings me up into our room

“So tired”

(Idk how to end it l o l )

I rly hope you like it

[tealenko]

Didn't Have the Heart (Chapter 9)

Chapter 9: Comparative Study of the Alliance Dress Uniform

You know that thing where you say: I'm not posting anything until I finish my fic (an then you don't finish it in 3 more months) XDDDD Well... Here we are.

So... Hi! I'm back (glad to be, tbh) and ecstatic to FINALLY have a new chapter for this fic lol

Anyways, as promised: I never abandon a fic (it just takes me a lot of time XDDD) so here we go, ch.9!!

Summary: The quarian admiral attacks the dreadnought while Shepard's team is still on board and, as expected, Kaidan doesn't take it too well. Neither does she. Surprisingly, that's not the only way their self-control gets tested in such a short time for, after dealing with all that, they'll need to find the strength of going back to work and not getting lost into one another.

Words: 10450 Rating: Explicit Warnings: oral sex, good old table sex happens too

Read in AO3 -> [link]

Previous Chapter -> [link] Next Chapter -> [link] All Chapters -> [link] Through Hell and Back series -> [link]

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Kaidan walks furiously through the main deck.

He has changed from his combat armor to his uniform so fast that Shepard is still putting on her hoodie by the time he exits the room.

“Shit.” She says, standing up to follow him, doing all she can to finish getting dressed while she walks as fast as possible, in an attempt to catch Kaidan.

Shepard knows that, if the doors of the Normandy weren’t automated, his exit of the room would’ve been accompanied by a loud slam noise, so she follows him, her heart pounding with immeasurable strength against her chest, quite afraid of what he is going to do next.

She manages to narrow the gap between them as they cross the main deck, to the point where, once they pass the meeting room, she’s already close enough to talk to him.

“Major…”

Shepard calls for him, stopping to catch her breath and expecting him to do the same.

But he doesn’t, and that gives Kaidan more than enough time to enter the war room before her.

“... Shit.”

She is expecting to hear him yell the moment the door closes behind him.

A “What the hell is wrong with you!?” or a “Fucking moron”, resounding through the entire ship, followed by the natural response of the rest of the crew and the quarian Admiralty Board.

Maybe a yell back, from admiral Gerrel, screaming some poor excuse at him, in a pointless attempt of justifying his actions.

Or perhaps Legion is already inside the room, which would make the whole ordeal even worse, complicating the situation into something that she no longer has the capacity to picture.

“Shit…”

In just a second, countless different situations pass through her thoughts, each of them worse than the previous one. But, despite all that, her expectations fall dead.

There she is, frozen next to the door that separates her from all these terrifying scenarios, and instead of any of them, all she is able to hear is silence.

And that, no matter how much she thinks about it, scares her even more.

When Shepard finally makes it into the room, she finds exactly what she was hoping she wouldn’t: Kaidan already facing the member of the Admiralty Board that she expected him to be yelling at.

Nevertheless, the silence continues, and not only on Kaidan’s behalf.

She examines the room with care to find the overall reaction to the whole situation.

The bulk of the Alliance soldiers inside the war room appear almost as mad as the mayor, trying their best to hide the relief of having a superior officer who is willing to do what they cannot without jeopardizing their rank.

In fact, the few left that do not want Kaidan to rip out the throat of the quarian in question, are only excluded from that group because they are closer to the door, and the sudden appearance of Shepard has startled them enough to make them forget about their anger.

The silence doesn’t stop there.

The rest of the members of the meeting, the two other quarian admirals, plus the one Kaidan is now facing, seem to have lost their words too, although for completely different reasons.

Admiral Raan doesn’t know where to hide, too embarrassed by the behavior of her fellow board member to know what to say to excuse it.

Admiral Xen, on the other hand, is too busy basking in the glory of their small victory to notice there’s anything else happening in the room.

And last, but definitely not least, there’s admiral Gerrel, now the center of most eyes in the room, who, despite what anyone else would have deemed wise, is not even showing a hint of remorse about his actions.

Instead, he just faces Kaidan with an arrogant tone in his posture, too entranced by his own inner monologue to grasp that almost everyone in the room is eager to punch him.

“Major…” She decides to break the silence, instantly capturing the attention of everyone in the room, except for the one person she was truly aiming to gain.

Kaidan not only keeps staring at the quarian, but he does not even seem to notice Shepard’s presence in the room.

She takes a deep breath and begins walking, thanking whichever god might be listening for their intervention while silently praying so that she'll be able to reach them before what she is fearing starts to happen.

Unluckily for her, it starts to happen.

She goes as fast as she’s able, not wanting to run and add up to the whole dramatic atmosphere, and makes it next to them just in time to see how Kaidan’s silence finally comes to an end.

“Explain.” He demands, more than asks, with a glacial tone of voice, raising his head to lock eyes directly with the quarian.

“Alenko…” She tries one more time but, once again, her voice vanishes into the air without getting any kind of response.

Shepard lowers her head a little, her attention immediately drawn to his hand, clenched into a fist as he struggles to keep all his emotions to himself, and the absence of yells finally makes sense to her.

A flicker of guilt blinks through her face as her heart skips a beat due to her initial assumption, almost ashamed for thinking that, after everything he’s had to endure, he would snap like that in front of everyone.

I should’ve known… She blames herself, her mind piecing together thousands of memories of Kaidan. I should’ve known.

The thought of it starts to haunt her for a second but, right on the verge of getting lost in it, she manages to follow his example and conquer her own feelings.

That’s why he’s standing here in silence, with all his strength focused on his own self-control. That’s why he cannot even hear me.

Shepard feels a strong pressure against her heart, while the many histories he told her about his past keep playing inside her head.

There’s now a mix of sadness and sorrow invading her, as she wonders how he manages to remain stoic where she knows she probably wouldn’t. A small hint of shame follows right after, feeling guilty for thinking that he wouldn’t either.

“Explain? I do not think…” 

Before the quarian has the opportunity to further provoke him into going against everything she just deciphered, Shepard gives it one more try, extending her arm to touch him, placing her hand on top of his shoulder.

“Kaidan...” He finally notices her presence.

His hand unclenches the moment he sees her, his entire demeanor easing up within seconds just because of her presence.

“Mio…” 

Sounds more similar to a spell than to a normal word, a whisper that chants her name almost as a call for help.

“I'll take it from here, Major.” She says in a surprisingly calm tone of voice, taking into account everything that just happened.

Kaidan takes a deep breath in and out before dedicating her a tired smile and a nod.

“Of course, Commander.” There’s a sense of relief in his voice as he says this, almost as if he wasn't fully convinced either that his self-control would be enough this time around.

Kaidan takes a step back, positioning himself next to Shepard for a couple of seconds before she decides to take one forwards in order to face the admiral.

Any doubts left about the magnitude of the levels of self-control he managed to accomplish, are instantly erased the moment she takes his place, not even wasting a second before engaging with the quarian. 

“Now…” She says, with a deep tone in her voice, ready to ask for the exact same but with way more anger than Kaidan did only a few seconds ago, taking her time to formulate the whole word. “Explain.”

If there was tension in the room before, now it has escalated into something even more serious, and it seems that the only one who isn’t able to notice it is the focus of it all, still too blinded by his own inner narrative to understand what everyone else is thinking.

“Explain what?”

Shepard raises one of her eyebrows and, for a second, she doesn’t know how to react to his behavior. Nevertheless, and luckily for her, that confused pause opens a window so that someone else explodes in anger right before she does.

“Explain what!?” Admiral Raan half yells at him, doing her best to control her tone of voice. “Your unilateral strike endangered us all! I should charge you with treason.”

Gerrel stares at her for a second, almost surprised that his fellow board member was the one to pronounce those words.

“I was within my authority as admiral of the Heavy Fleet!” He replies, his voice resonating through the tense atmosphere of the room.  

“And what of Shepard? And Tali’Zorah?”

The admiral almost lets a laugh out, finding utterly absurd that his actions could be considered reprehensible.

For a moment, he turns to look at the commander and, even though his face is not visible, the way he moves is more than enough to convey how little significance he gives to both her and the rest of the people who were aboard the dreadnought.

As a whole, he regards the discussion as a complete waste of time, truly unbothered by the gravity of the accusations against him, only annoyed by the fact that people are still yelling at him.

His next decision, unfortunately, is to reply in the exact same fashion. And that, it’s what finally does it.

No one who knows the slightest thing about Shepard would ever mistake her for being short-tempered.

In fact, something that often surprises those around her, the more you get to know her, the more it seems like her patience is limitless. The few that had the chance to really know her, can attest that the assumption is indeed true.

This becomes really evident once you understand the reason behind it.

Survival has been the sole focus of Shepard’s life since she can remember and, to achieve that, she had to learn how not to feel, how not to talk and, most importantly, how not to behave.

And she’s exceptionally good at it.

The insults never bothered her, even before her life started crumbling, when she was only a child with dreams and emotions still untouched. 

Everything she knew vanished and despite the horrors of her upbringing, or perhaps because of them, her insight and self-control never failed her.

So, when she got into the Alliance and had to endure the questioning looks and comments about her background, her education, her origins, her gender, her abilities and even about the way she breathed, she was more than used to let everything slide, feeling almost entertained by the prospect of seeing the face of everyone who ever dared to judge her after proving them wrong.

She even got through Cerberus without losing control.

Except for once.

But, even then, she was able to keep it all to herself and paid it later with the wall. That specific wall that now has a twin dent to match that one, added quite recently by her own helmet when she threw it against it.

Nevertheless, one could say, without any trace of hesitation, that after saving the universe an absurd amount of times in the last four years, being dead for two of them to come back to life… The breakups, countless confrontations, battles and way too many conversations with politicians, two dents in a wall, and a broken hand after causing the first of them, are indeed a sign of never-seen before self-control.

And nothing could be more true. 

To this day, Shepard's ability to keep calm, or at least to fake it, even in the middle of the wildest tempest she encounters, hasn’t met an equal match yet, not even in Kaidan.

Stoic against every single thing she faces.

Or at least until today.

For, with all said and done, everyone has their limits, even her, and against his better judgment, this quarian that now stands in front of her, with an inexplicable air of moral superiority, has chosen to cross hers to uncharted territories.

“They escaped unharmed! Shepard, the mission parameters changed.”

She looks at him almost in awe at his stupidity, baffled by every word that comes out of the quarian's mouth.

Unsure of what else to do, feeling the anger growing inside of her at an unprecedented speed, she decides to opt for a classic technique, a last attempt to maintain composure, and starts counting to ten inside her head.

One, two…

“You’re military. You understand that.”

She never makes it to three.

“I understand that you wasted your chance to withdraw safely!”

The room falls into complete silence for a moment, the air heavy with extreme disbelief. Everyone in it, whether Alliance soldier or not, wears a shocked expression on their face, completely stunned by Shepard’s reply to the quarian. 

“You want to sacrifice your fleet in exchange for nothing, be my guest. But for me, my people come first so, if you aren’t able to control your egomaniacal outbursts, I will not hesitate, even for a second, to abandon all the quarians to the demise you are so eager to lead them to. Do you copy me!?”

“It was the right decision, Shepard.” The admiral’s voice shifts a little, losing the condescending tone, but with the same overall feeling as he adds: “I will not apologize for it. We are at war with the Geth!”

Shepard’s eyes narrow at his response, her patience stretched to its limits as she closes her hand into a fist and, while the rest of the room remains in shock, Kaidan, who is witnessing the small gesture from an unmatched perspective, quickly understands what’s going to happen next.

“That’s the fucking problem, we are at war with the reapers!” Her voice raises even more than before. “The geth are not the ones you should be fighting, they are! And, if you aren’t gonna do anything about it, at least have the decency of not trying to blow up the ones that are trying to stop them!”

“The dreadnought was a perfect targ…” 

What Kaidan was fearing becomes a reality and, before the admiral has time to finish his sentence, Shepard closes the small gap between them. 

Her arm seems to move back on its own, accumulating more than a tone of tension and, before any other thought crosses her head, she punches the admiral right into the middle of his stomach.

“Ugh!”

Even Kaidan is surprised, despite seeing the punch coming from afar, not expecting the strength it carried along with it, understanding now the amount of anger accumulated in Shepard’s body.

“Admiral, you jeopardized your mission, your people and my people!” The last two words almost choke at her throat, her vocal cords tensing with anger. “Now, get the hell off my ship.”

The way she says ‘my people’ gives Kaidan everything he needs to understand the source of her rage.

She isn’t mad that they almost killed her… She’s furious because they almost killed us… Killed me.

He stares at Shepard, who is too focused on deep breathings to notice the way he is looking at her, with a tint of half guilty and half relief painting her face as she witnesses admiral Gerrel, with one hand glued to his stomach, struggling a bit to walk as he exits the room. 

Knowing what comes next, Kaidan tries his best to reach her, not sure what he'll do once he's next to her, but wanting to be there nonetheless.

Unfortunately, the madness of the whole situation quickly claims her attention, and before he’s even able to take more than a step, she’s already into damage control mode.

Despite fully knowing that she’s been way harsher than it is proper or allowed, she doesn’t apologize for it, and even though she regains her usual peaceful demeanor, the tone of her speech remains the same, exposing without hesitation the damage that admiral Gerrel’s actions could do to their alliance.

Once Kaidan is sure that the fire is over, and aware that there’s nothing he can add or do to help her, he takes a step back from the whole situation and lets her alone to deal with the whole ordeal as she recovers little by little some of that stoic persona that she adopts whenever she deals with politicians.

Still, he wants to talk to her about everything that just happened, so he decides to leave the room and walk to her cabin, a more suitable environment to have that kind of conversation.

When Shepard is eventually free and retires herself to her quarters, Kaidan is already inside waiting for her.

“I know, I know…” She sighs and huffs, stating out loud her thoughts from the moment she enters through the door . “I know.”

Kaidan smiles, which he knows he shouldn’t, but is unable to help it, finding her reaction too charming to avoid it.

There’s a second where he almost considers to lecture her about her behavior, but the idea never gets to fully form, knowing he would’ve probably ended up doing the same thing if it wasn’t for her intervention.

Instead he just sighs, placing one hand on his hip as he waits for her on the other side of the room, maintaining the smile that adorns his face.

The sweet view relaxes her a little, grateful to have Kaidan’s support through all this madness.

“I know I shouldn’t have punched him.” She declares while crossing her room in record time to sit on the bed and take off her boots. “I know.”

Kaidan starts to sense the heavy amount of stress building up on her, aware that, despite what everyone else wanted, she must not be happy with the way her body took that decision without listening to her brain.

“It’s alright… It'll be, at least.” He sits next to her, resting his right foot on top of his knee. “Nothing you can do about it now…” He lets his body fall a little towards her, nudging her shoulder. “Just focus on the next step, that’s all left to do.”

“Urgg…” She groans, letting all her weight fall to lie on the bed. “Yeah… I guess it’s all damage control now.”

He turns a little to look at her, watching her as she goes through every detail on her mind.

“Luckily I’ve somehow managed to end up on the victorious end of the exchange with the rest of the quarians.” She says out loud, both to process the state of the situation and to inform him of what he missed.  “Maybe because of Tali’s intervention once you left, or because admiral Raan wanted to hit him as much as I did, we’ll never know, but at least I haven’t broken any potential alliance… Yet.”

“Yet? You sell yourself short, Shepard.”

“You were there too, Alenko.”

“Yeah, and would’ve been the one to hit the admiral if it weren’t for you.” He lies next to her, turning a little to face her before he continues. “Everyone would’ve… We’re human, after all.”

He laughs a little but she doesn’t follow, which is enough for him to understand there’s something else bothering her.

“What are you afraid to break, then?”

She almost smiles, amazed and elated, even after all this time, by the fact that she doesn’t even need to talk for him to understand her.

“I’ve called for another meeting, conclave… Whatever you wish to call it.” Shepard sighs, dreading even the thought of it. “Part of the damage control, and to see if we can do something about all this shitshow.”

“A meeting?”

“Yup. Two quarian admirals, three, counting Tali, Garrus will be there too, representing primark Victus and, if my messages are correct, I think Wrex will attend from remote using the quantum comm system which, I’m already fearing, is gonna be something for the books, if you ask me.”

She brings her arm to her head, covering her eyes, counting the many things that could go wrong as she speaks.

“And to tie it all up, Legion is gonna be there too, as spokesperson… Spokespeople?” She considers the term for a moment. “Spokesmachine? Who knows…” Shepard laughs a little at her own comment, not knowing what else to do. “To represent the geth consensus, basically. Because the situation wasn’t difficult enough already.”

She is expecting Kaidan to say something but, when he doesn’t, moves her arm back to its normal resting place so she can look at him.

Shepard recognizes the expression on his face right away, but not knowing the cause of it, she just waits with an inquisitive look for him to share his concerns.

“So…” Kaidan finally says, while trying to link everything inside his mind. “You befriended a geth…”

She’s shocked for a few seconds until her thoughts catch up with her and understands that, the thing that’s so natural for her right now, may seem close to impossible from the outside. 

An intelligent machine not only saved her life, twice now, but also helped her take down the collectors and, she’s quickly realizing, that all that information must be quite new for Kaidan.

“Ah, yeah…” She laughs, still not knowing what else to do, moving a little in order to face him.

Her first instinct is to come up with an explanation, but the whole story seems so complicated that she doesn’t even know where to start.

“You’ll see…” She tries her best to explain. “Last year, was a bit weird…”

“That’s an understatement.”

They both start laughing, for real this time around.

“I mean, I read the reports that said you were working with a geth but… I don’t know. I needed to see it to believe it, I guess.” Kaidan adds as he smiles. “Talks a lot about that quarian admiral though.”

“What?”

“Well, you were able to make an ally of the geth. How stupid do you have to be to anger someone who’s that diplomatic?” Kaidan laughs, a bit in disbelief. “You even managed to peacefully deal with the rachni, holy shit… And that moron singlehanded succeeded in making you punch him in less than three minutes.”

“I guess…”

There’s a moment of silence there before she decides to continue.

“I’m assuming you’ll have questions…” He looks at her with confusion. “Bout the whole Legion thing.”

He doesn’t give the idea a second thought before replying to her comment.

“No, it’s okay.” There’s a hint of astonishment on her face as he begins to explain himself. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m still surprised, but I mean… You called it, them, your friends. That’s more than enough for me.” He smiles at her. “I trust you.”

Shepard sighs a little, relieved and overwhelmed by the feeling caused by the way he just said that.

“Thanks…” She barely whispers, turning to face him and scooting a bit closer in order to kiss him.

“My pleasure.” The smile on his face deepens even more. “I’d like to hear the whole story one day if we ever have the time, though. If you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” Shepard mirrors his expression, moving one hand to rest on his chest. 

She lets her head fall a little, giving him a place to rest his own. 

The scent of her shampoo greets him as an old friend, mixed with the usual hints of sweat, blood and deodorant that surrounds any Alliance soldier who puts a foot into the battlefield.

Kaidan wonders what he must smell like right now, a thought that almost tempts him to break the closeness between them but, despite his worries, he stays there for a while, glued to her, only moving to comb some of her hair behind her ear.

The gesture makes her move a little in order to face him and is quickly welcomed by a warm and tired smile, their gaze locking into one, choosing the dangerous prospect of losing themselves into each other’s eyes.

There’s an unspoken second of devotion there. One of those moments that appear to float in wonder instead of being grounded to reality. Feelings so deep and solid that almost seem to pierce themselves into their owners’ hearts.

Just for a moment, everything else disappears, except for them, floating alone in a realm of their own, with the pressure of all their feelings carving its way into their souls.

Only for a second, they are truly alone. Alone in her room but also alone to each other, no thought of anything else but them occupying their minds.

However, rare miracles do not last for long, and this one is not an exception. 

What comes fast disappears at the same pace, and before it can survive any longer, she makes sure to break it before it escalates to something even deeper.

The pressure of so many feelings pounding inside her chest is something she’s still getting used to but, above everything, she fears the many hours that this moment may grow into if she lets it happen.

She doesn’t let it happen.

With her previously shattered self-control now fully recovered, she puts an end to it, lowering the two of them back to reality with a single move, shifting her head to look at her wardrobe as she tries to focus on her work again.

“Anyways,” she stretches her neck, “I should be getting ready…” The last word loses its strength as it comes out of her mouth, eyes still fixed on the furniture in question.

There's a split second of silence there, as Kaidan returns back to his own self too.

“What, don’t wanna enter a room full of politicians wearing your hoodie?” He teases her, once he’s able.

“Wish I could…” She stands up from the bed in record time, facing her dresser with a slightly annoyed look on her face. “Now, let's see if I can do something to undo the grave the quarians have dug for themselves.”

Kaidan stands up too, knowing that both their moment and their conversation have come to an end and, after a good luck said as a farewell, he starts walking towards the door at an unhurried pace.

To his eyes, she seems to feel better, which makes him feel better too, but only a few steps afar from the door he hears a subtle sigh, and that's more than enough to make him stop and turn, seeing her pull out her formal clothes almost with disgust.

Unsure of what else to do, tired of over analyzing everything, Kaidan puts his brain to rest for a little and just does what comes natural for him.

“You know, if you need help…” He tells her from the other side of the room. “You only need to ask.”

She smiles a little, her mind making a thousand innuendos before she understands the true meaning behind his words.

“Oh, with the meeting.”

“Yeah… With the meeting.” 

He starts walking all the way back to her. 

It takes him perhaps three seconds to get there, but they pack many thoughts in between them to not develop them further.

The first is dedicated exclusively to deciphering her words, followed by another to process them.

The last one, is fully focused on drafting an effective comeback.

Despite being a pure and innocent offer at the beginning, he quickly understands in which way her mind has twisted his words to cause hers and, more than willing to follow the path she’s taken for the both of them, Kaidan savors his possibilities, unable to avoid smiling a little on his lasts steps back to her.

“More than glad to help with anything you need, ma’am.”

The reply takes her by surprise, giving him the opportunity to rest his hands on her waist before she’s able to reply, an ability that’s completely lost the moment he tugs from her to close the little gap left between them. 

There’s something close to shock in her expression, mixed with shyness and excitement on equal parts, and the view of it makes Kaidan smile even further.

He considers for an instant the path his actions could lead to but, no matter how much all of him would like to walk right through it, it’s now his turn to exercise the same self-control she displayed less than a minute ago, so he pulls back, just as she did, before he is no longer able to do so.

Kaidan grins from ear to ear, scouring the room as he attempts to teach his body to follow his wishes or, better said, to not fully follow them.

“Sorry, it wasn’t my initial motivation…” He clears his throat. “I swear.”

Shepard smiles as he says that, always happy to see Kaidan forget his formal ways around her.

“But, in all seriousness now, I can go to the meeting if you need me to.” He stares at her. “You know I don’t mind these things as much as you do.”

Shepard sighs, considering the prospects of his proposal.

“It would be nice.” She takes a few seconds to consider the idea. “I mean… I fear that if I go in there alone I’m gonna strangle somebody, or something worse.”

“You only need to ask, Mio.” 

The mention of her name warms her heart in a way that she would’ve deemed impossible a few years ago, finding relief in what used to haunt her not too long ago. 

Shepard doesn’t need to give it a second thought before accepting his offer. 

“Mind to join me, Kaidan?”

There’s no hesitation on his answer either.

“Whatever you command.” 

He closes the distance again and, without breaking eye contact, grabs her hand and vows a little to kiss it, not leaving more than an inch between them as he recovers his posture. “I should go change into my formal uniform then…”

There’s an audible gulp.

She almost loses it again, needing to break eye contact and quickly pulling her hand from his grasp, taking a step backwards while her mind keeps yelling control in an endless loop inside her head.

“Later…” She kinda mumbles, unable to talk any louder. 

Kaidan leaves the room after that, smiling from ear to ear, and with a: “Yeah… Later” whispered as his last reply before he exits.

After a much needed moment to recover, she turns her attention back to the wardrobe.

The smile is lost in an instant and, the feelings that seemed to be the biggest threat to distract her from her dutty only a moment ago, are quickly forgotten as her hands reach for her formal uniform once again.

The sigh that comes out of her is even deeper this time around, with almost hints of disgust mixed with it as she stares at her clothes.

Shepard’s relationship with her uniform was a tumultuous one from her very beginning at the Alliance.

She wasn’t alone in her feelings, of course, there were many who didn’t like the design, nor the fit, but Shepard never cared enough about fashion to even consider them part of the problem.

After her humble and more than rocky path to adulthood, she had never had the chance to develop a style of her own, nor had the means to afford it, so the way the uniform looked never bothered her at all.

For Shepard clothing was all about functionality, and she only needed two things present in whatever she was wearing: protection and comfort.

This last one, was where she started to have problems with the Alliance uniform.

Her regular clothes weren’t as bad as her gala attire, but there were hard edges where she didn’t want them, itchy seams here and there, and a belt so big that almost forced her to remain standing if she didn’t want it poking into her skin.

The formal uniform had all these defects as well, but added many more to the mix, making it even more difficult to move her body while wearing it.

Nevertheless she wore it without complaining and, at the beginning, it was only a minor inconvenience that she quickly learned to live with.

It wasn’t until she was four years into the Alliance that a new factor was added to the discomfort.

Even before Akuse, her ideals had already begun to crumble as she gained insight into the inner workings of the Alliance. However, the consequences of said mission, along with the factors that led to its failure, were more than enough to taint Shepard’s vision of the Alliance to a whole new level.

And the clothing, that only used to matter for protection and comfort, earned a third attribute on her list, as she realized they were also a symbol. A symbol she no longer wanted to wear.

Because of that, an unconscious behavior more than a deliberate choice, she began to avoid wearing it as much as she could, staying longer in her combat gear than needed and choosing civilian clothes in leaves, not wanting to wear it more than it was mandatory.

Thinking about all this she starts to take her current clothes.

The pants are so old that there are no longer traces of the Alliance insignia and, both the t-shirt and the jacket that used to cover it, were abandoned long ago, are now replaced for their N7 equivalents: a black tank top and a hoodie.

She takes off this last one and lets it fall to the ground, granting her full view of her own arms.

The sight of them perturbs her a little, as it’s been doing for more than a year now, looking at the perfect and immaculate skin that adorns them as if it was a curse.

The scars, the scratches, the tattoos… Even most of her moles are gone, courtesy of Cerberus, and the idea of it saddens her more than she could’ve ever imagined.

The arms aren’t the only ones that got that treatment and, as she takes off her pants, she remembers what her legs felt like, burning inside of her suit as was stranding in space, suffocating, just before crashing into Alchera.

“Geth attacks my ass…” She mumbles, as the view of her legs reminisce her of the excruciating pain that’s no longer marked into her skin, but which memory will forever scorch inside of her. 

She half grunts while kicking the discarded clothes closer to the wardrobe.

“Ah yeah… The reapers.”

Shepard imitates the tone that was used on her the first time she heard the comment, feeling the long years that she spent screaming about the upcoming war pressuring onto her heart. 

The first but not last. She tried many, countless times, but almost no one in the Alliance listened to her and, the few that did, didn’t move a finger either.

“Not true, they put me in charge once they could no longer deny their existence.” 

She adds in a satiric tone of voice, half laughing with a hint of despair. 

Shepard stares at the ceiling for a second, bottling back most of her anger while taking a deep breath.

“Happy thoughts, Mio… Happy thoughts.” Her brain goes back to the past but, this time around, in search of something that helps her to put on her clothes. “Anderson did try to help you. He’s still trying.”

A smile, a faint and weak smile, but a smile nonetheless, appears on her face as she focuses on that thought.

It’s not a lot but is enough to get her started, and as she begins to get into her formal uniform, her mind travels to a well known place.

It’s always more bitter than sweet, to think about her early days in the Alliance after what happened in Akuze, but for some reason this time around it isn’t.

Right now, her will is just looking for the good things hidden behind her suffering and, almost unknowingly, she engages in a well too practiced routine, a personal mantra of her own, and just focuses on the one thing that’s keeping her in the Alliance: the people.

Not the high ups, the corrupted or the politicians, but the soldiers, the individuals she’s met throughout the years, the people that actually get things done.

With every new item of clothing she names one of them inside her head. 

The bulk of the list has been dead for a while now, or will be soon, she fears, thanks to the war. But, no matter what, they’re still worth fighting for.

And just like that, the names travel through her mind creating a bittersweet road for her will to travel while she gets ready, for all intents and purposes, for her next battle. 

The uniform is finally on and, almost as if the universe did it to annoy her, it fits her perfectly.

The seams align themselves right where they’re supposed to, the length of the sleeves is immaculate and even the trousers, which she usually has problems finding ones that aren’t too short for her height, end right after her ankle, offering a clear view of her new and uncomfortable shoes.

Her whole uniform is in fact new, not only the shoes, which somehow makes her hate it even more. 

You have to wear it down to earn it. Shepard adds, in her mind, as she fixes the final details, the long lost words of an old mentor that would be entirely lost, if not for her.

One last look into the mirror, an exhale and a nod. Then she’s ready to leave.     

Shepard goes all the way from her cabin to the main deck, heading to the war room and, to her dismay, she notices the effect the uniform is having among the crew of the Normandy.  

Everyone stands more stiffly than usual, quicker, looks focused on her when she passes by them and whispers of anticipation once she leaves, unknowingly reacting to this image of Shepard that is so unusual for them.

She takes a second once she makes it to her destiny, readjusting the stiff collar of the jacket, and breathes deeply before entering the room. The moment she puts a foot on it, the whole mood changes.

Thanks to her hesitation while dressing herself, Shepard is indeed fashionably late but, once she crosses the threshold of the door, her own worries and preferences are gone and, despite being the last one to enter the room, the way she carries herself quickly gains everyone's attention.                                                               

All looks are now on her, but hers are intentionally focusing on no one.

There’s a strange feeling that tells Shepard that, if anyone else gets a word in edgeways, she will lose control of the meeting and everyone will start to yell at each other. So she starts talking the second she sets foot in the room, exposing all the collected intel while doing her best to target her eyes at the exposed data, fearing that looking at anyone would give them the idea to say anything at all.

To her favor, the strategy works extremely well for a while, with everyone more focused on Shepard than in the grudge they hold against each other.

Nevertheless, she cannot talk forever and, just as she feared, the moment she stops, Hell quickly gets loose and everyone starts to gradually yell in order to be heard.

Garrus maintains a civil voice at the beginning but, in his endeavor of balancing his attention, he ends up forgetting his manners, dividing his efforts between exposing the turian’s priorities, as a representative of primark Victus, and helping Tali with anything she attempts to say.                                                                             

Despite trying his best, Tali’s voice is muffled by many others, screaming at each other while she attempts with all her will, but still fails, to keep the peace between all the races present there.                                                                                 

To her dismay, the voices that are more distinguishable right now are the ones talking without basic peace at mind, combining into a loud mix of many questionable ideas and opinions.

We have the intertwined with static voice of Wrex, yelling incoherent things over the comm system, extremely mad at the quarians after learning what the now not present admiral did to the dreadnought while Shepard was still in it.

The two other admirals, to add into the chaos, are way too busy with their own discussion to pay any kind of attention or reply to his complaints. 

Raan is entranced in a monologue about the importance of sending a team to rescue Admiral Koris that, in all fairness, would be making way more sense if she wasn’t fighting at the same time against Xen’s attempts to discredit her, interested in taking the upper hand of the meeting and only stopping her remarks here and there to express her willingness to dismantle Legion at any given opportunity. 

Legion, on their part, is surprisingly, and despite all this, the more sane voice among the group, stating only the given facts and doing extremely well at countering the admiral’s attempts to deconstruct them. 

Unfortunately, everything they say gets immediately lost in the general chaos of the room.

Anyone else would have followed the example of the rest of the members of the meeting: screaming until I am heard. But not Legion.

After analyzing everything in nanoseconds, they come to the conclusion that any intervention will be disregarded, so Legion, instead of adding to the general madness, decide that stepping back and gathering data to process it is a better use of their time.

After many attempts to regain control of the room, Shepard gives up too, but for a completely different reason.                                                                                    

She’s had a very long day, and comes to the conclusion that, the best way to go through this, is to let them yell to each other as much as they need. So she just takes a few steps backwards and rests her weight against the glass walls, taking a few seconds to breathe.

For the first time since she entered the room, she raises her head and sees the only member who’s been silent through the entire meeting.

Kaidan is on the opposite side of the room, a bit separated from the others, trying his best to understand each and every point of view, with hands supporting some of his weight as they rest on top of the table that’s in between all of them.

So she raises her head, looks at Kaidan and, for the first time in her life, the Alliance dress uniform suddenly feels like the most beautiful thing she’s ever witnessed.

She looks away for a moment, but her eyes quickly betray her and move back to him for, no matter how much self-control anyone has developed throughout the entire history of the current cycle of life in their galaxy, and the many before this one, it would never be enough to not make her look again, not enough to avoid forgetting about this whole entire meeting and is not enough, and would never be enough, to keep her from staring in awe.

So, while the rest of the people gathered there are way too busy half screaming at one another, the only thing that remains for her is Kaidan, and the table that selfishly separates them.

Of course, to her eyes, Kaidan is always handsome, breathtaking on most occasions, but the formal uniform is having an effect on her that she could've never anticipated.

Details that she considered deeply annoying only a few minutes ago, turn quickly into reasons to keep looking at him. Her eyes, no longer under her control, go deep into an extensive study of the matter. 

The uniform doesn’t seem more used than hers but, under further inspection, she notices it’s an older model than her own.

Way older, not old fashioned or runned down, but she can tell that, apart from the jacket, more recently acquired after his promotion, the rest of the pieces have details no longer featured in newer versions.

Nevertheless, this is something visible perhaps only for Shepard, having both the in-depth knowledge about the Alliance formal wear and the interest in scanning the mayor’s body whenever the opportunity is presented.

So, to everyone else, it only looks like any other dress uniform, kept in perfect condition and apparently brand new, perhaps a little ill fitting if one wanted to compare it to Shepard’s, which it’s been chosen with her current measurements in mind.

But, after all, saying that something is ill fitting, is a more subjective term than one may imagine.

What is clear is that, after many years of training, the attire is a bit smaller than it should, thanks to the gained muscle throughout his career, making even the jacket, despite being the newest addition to the outfit, suit quite tightly against his body.

To some degree that could be considered ill fitting, especially for the more ruthless and old school officers, but, for Shepard, the general opinion is quite the opposite and, what she has in mind to describe it, would fall closer to distracting than to ill fitting.

Kaidan turns to talk with Legion, perhaps because they seem like the only ones in the room willing to listen and, after a few moments in their conversation, she sees him smile a little, just a little, but it’s more than enough to be extremely heartwarming. 

He, even more than her, had been fed for years into having animosity against the geth, institutionalized in their upbringing in the Alliance and, to be real, in every single organic society.

So, seeing him so calm and willing to be open, brings back the familiar pressure against her soul that only he is able to cause.

By the way she sees Kaidan reacting to what Legion is saying, how he speaks to them and, most importantly, how he smiles, she quickly realizes that they are talking about her, confirmed as Kaidan turns to meet her gaze only for a second, deepening the glee reflected on his face before redirecting his attention back at the geth.

If things inside the room were starting to vanish for her before, they are completely gone after that, being only left right now: him, her and the table he’s still leaning on.

Kaidan's attention goes back to Legion, but that doesn’t help her either for, with the movement, perhaps aided by the tight fit of the jacket, the first button of his uniform becomes undone, offering a clearer view of Kaidan’s neck from where she’s resting.

Her right hand moves slowly on its own, imagining how she’d take care of the next one if she was able.

Shepard toys with the idea of what she would do with that if they were alone in the room, her fingers moving a little by her side as she pictures herself slowly unbuttoning the third clasp, and she can almost feel his reaction on them, imagining him gulping as he does his best to remain stoic.

Kaidan does that sometimes, pretending the touch of her skin doesn’t affect him, perhaps because he is unknowingly aware that this usually challenges her to prove him wrong.

How she wishes to prove him wrong right now.

With every second she spends looking at him, the more her opinion about the formal uniform gets twisted. Morals, memories and ideals are quickly forgotten in favor of the way the clothes hug every inch of his body as she wishes she could do right now.

Her priorities get upside down too and now, rather than focussing her efforts in getting out of the meeting, and her galas, as soon as possible, she’s drowning in the prospect of getting rid of his uniform instead.

Shepard traces the steps on her mind, trying to tame her hand to stop moving along with her imagination.

She knows that, after the first buttons, his neck would be completely uncovered. She also knows that she wouldn’t be able to resist the invitation.

Her hand tangling in his hair while she attacks, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles while she rests her weight against him, both of them supported by the table.

The other hand, also eager to be a part of the exchange, would roam his body, mapping everything her eyes were witnessing with such despair.

She can hear the soft moans. His and hers.

Can feel his hands, resting at her hips to pull her closer, as he always does, even if it’s physically impossible to leave less space between them, humming something similar to a low growl as she presses herself against him without stopping her attack.

Her own hand, abandoning his hair to travel south, resuming its prior argument with the buttons of his jacket and, of course, after winning it, it’s extremely happy to find there’s nothing below it for once. 

The next step seems only obvious.

She grabs him by the collar and kisses him until they forget for a second they need to breathe to remain alive, only stopping so that her mouth is able to follow her hand’s example and wanders downwards, treating his chest and abs with the same treatment as his neck.

Shepard can hear him laughing a little, deep and sultry, a mix between a moan and a giggle, as she starts to take care of the buttons of his trousers now that the ones of his jacket have been defeated.

The moment her lips reach the place they were headed, his uniform is no longer a problem, as her hands have undone his pants and lowered them enough, along with his underwear, to welcome her just in time.

One last kiss, placed right on the lower part of his stomach, is followed by a new trail to the upper side of his leg as she kneels before him, adopting a more comfortable position as her mouth gets closer to her target. 

Her left hand surrounds his hardness, winning her a moan, while the other grips around his leg, both for stability and because she knows the effect that motion tends to cause.

She is in the right.

Kaidan moves his hands too, one on the table, also to maintain his balance, the other to her hair, stroking it in a loving way as he does his best to control his breathing.

His eyes are directed towards the ceiling, focussing in nothing in particular, and she takes that as another challenge so, now that she’s as comfortable as it gets, she starts moving her left hand, in a slow motion, altering the pressure at the same time as its position, using her thumb to caress the tip of his cock as she does so.

“Mio…”

There it is again.

Her name.

A shiver roams her entire body as she hears him say it. The fact that the whisper is followed by his gaze, doesn’t help her either.

Distraction aside, she doesn’t lose her focus.

“God…” He sighs, as her hand keeps working on him. “Mio.”

She smiles at him, bathes on the sight of his face as he pants, struggling a little to breathe, and starts her offensive.

In a moment, before his brain has the time to prepare for it, her lips are surrounding him. Her hand keeping the grip while her mouth gets used to the novelty of his presence.

His first moan after all that is quite controlled, having everything into consideration but, once she adds her tongue to the mix, most of his self-control is quickly lost.

She uses it to travel its length with a rippling motion and, with her hand leaving more space for her as it anchors to his leg, she starts to move her head even more, taking all his length into her mouth so that she can feel his reaction to the whole motion deep into her throat.

The pace of her rhythm and his moans grow at equal speed.

She is moaning too. Everytime she feels him getting even harder her whole body reacts: her hands increase the strength of their grip, her legs tremble a little, her tempo gets faster and, what started as a warm sensation, is now a full on fire, demanding his presence somewhere else once her mouth is done with him.

One of her hands travels to her own body, desperate to comply with some of its requests and, without neglecting her attention to Kaidan, undoes her own pants, quickly finding its way where it's more wanted, humming in pleasure with every new movement of her fingers. 

As a reply to all this, he gets even harder, and they get tangled in a loop of pants and moans that goes for a while, until she decides to take it even further.

Fully aware of the effect it's going to cause, she slows the pace just enough to be able to contract her throat, with her eyes looking up directly at him to see his reaction.

The view is completely priceless.

His head falls down as he lets out a new kind of moan, a mix of pleasure and surprise that covers his body as he tries his best to control himself, failing a little as the grip on her hair gets even stronger.

Kaidan’s eyes are closed, but having her mouth where she has it, he can feel her smile for a moment before repeating the action a second time, and the a third and, when he starts to think he’s gotten used to the sensation, she decides to add back into the mix everything else she was doing until now, composing a symphony of pleasure that takes almost all the power left in him.

There’s a moment of hesitation there. 

Under the attack of hundreds of waves of bliss, his body doesn’t know what to do, a part of it begging for him to make this last as long as possible while another tells him to grab her head and lose himself in the depths of her throat.

He wishes both of them where possible, but a choice must be taken.

Nevertheless, he’s too late to be the one to choose.

Under the same wave of conflict, Shepard is quicker to take a path and, dedicating special attention to her last lick, she moves backwards and stands up.

The confusion on his face lasts only for a second, understanding everything the moment she pushes him against the table, making him lay completely on it except for the lower part of his legs which remain hanging from the edge.

Kaidan uses his own feet to take off his shoes and, right after, moves a little to take off his pants. 

At the same time, Shepard is busy doing basically the same but, perhaps thanks to how much she despises what she’s wearing, she’s able to get rid of her entire uniform and underwear in the same time that it takes him to remove two items of clothing.

She’s on top of him in record time and, completely desperate at this point, has already decided to throw the forplay out of the window.

No more caresses, or nibbles, or kisses.

She doesn’t even wait for him to look at her as she usually does.

His body is more than ready and that’s good enough for her.

Without a second thought, she aligns herself and lets gravity do the rest of the work, focussing on the sensation that fills her as she closes her grip on his shoulders.

Despite not being consulted, Kaidan is thrilled with the path taken. His hands, ready to show her his agreement, bask in the pleasure of surrounding her ass to push her even closer to him.

That’s all she needs.

After that warm invitation she starts moving against him right away, using all her body to ride him as they crash together against the table. 

She can feel the cold of the room, the soreness of her back, still not fully recovered after a battle injury, and the pain in her knees, getting scratched and bruised by the table every time she pounds all her weight against him.

She doesn’t care.

With every motion, every push, she feels him filling her more and more, and all her senses are way too focused on finding new depths within herself to be worried about any coldness or pain.

She would usually study him, tease him, look for new ways to pleasure him as they join into one, but not today.

For the second time today she’s out of self-control, so she grips and scratches his body with her nails before anchoring one hand on his neck for stability, allowing her to crash against him even harder.

Then again, Kaidan doesn’t mind not being taken in such consideration as usual, and is just focused on taking in the whole experience.

Her body lowers, seeking for him, and as she speeds the pace, she kisses him with more need than ever, panting, moaning and screaming while she repeats the action countless times, mixing all of this with playful bites to his lower lip or to his jaw.

The rhythm rises to a new high, as does the strength she uses to ram against him. 

Her cries, intelligible for a moment, get high enough to travel to another galaxy, intertwining with his own into a loud melody, before losing all their power, giving way to a collection of way too intense moans to be audible as she reaches new peaks of pleasure.

She comes first.

He is second.

And then she comes again, as a direct response of feeling and seeing him reach his climax.

Her entire body falls on top of him, struggling to breathe, fighting all the pleasure that builds in her body as it begs her for a hat-trick. 

Kaidan hugs her with all his strength, taking a few seconds to recover before being able to talk.

“You okay?”

She feels his words caressing her neck, sending an electric wave though her body.

“Shepard…”

The voice gets muffled, distant even, her brain doing her best to regain control of her body.

“Shepard.”

And just like that, reality hits her.

She raises her head for the first time in many minutes.

“You okay?”

Garrus stares at her with a preoccupied look on his eyes and, after seeing her shaking her head a couple of times, he starts to fear the worst. 

“Look at us…” Admiral Raan intervenes, being able to do so thanks to the unprecedented silence that invades the room now that all eyes are fixed on Shepard. “Complaining and arguing with each other, while the commander was almost blown up by admiral Gerrel just now, after we don’t know how many missions without rest.” 

The worry in most of their eyes, turns now to shame, thinking that Shepard’s disconnection from the meeting is due to being tired. 

“We should end the meeting now that we have exposed our problems.” Tali adds, displeased with her part in all of it. “You’ll have more than enough to make a choice.”

She tries her best, in vain, to remember anything said in the good 20 minutes she blacked out of reality.

She moves a little to gain time, developing a thoughtful expression as she pretends to consider whatever she’s supposed to while everyone in the room stares at her, expecting an answer to a question she cannot remember, while she does a remarkable job at faking that she does.

But she doesn’t fool Kaidan.

There’s a strange look on his face for a moment, not understanding the situation at all, but once he notices that she needs help he doesn’t hesitate to act.

“So, to sum up…” The attention of the entire room moves now to him, relieving Shepard of said pressure. “We mainly have two options: going to rescue admiral Korris or going to hack the geth mainframe Legion told us about.”

“Okaaaayy…” 

She says slowly, with all the gears in her brain working at full capacity while she analises this information. 

“I need to look… More, into these considerations. And you are perhaps right, admiral, in me and my crew needing some time before heading to the next mission. I will ask, then, for a…”  There’s an imperceptible pause there, fearing they had sended the information already.  “New… Updated reports, of both you and Legion, with any possible changes during our break. If we all agree that would be all.” 

Everyone looks at her, quite content with the decision and the overall ending of the meeting.

She can overhear a “done” from Legion, who has already sent the actualized information to her as everyone starts to leave.

“Well I…”  Raan stops on her way out. “I’ll need… Fifteen, perhaps twenty minutes.” She says, not really knowing how to react to the geth’s speed in their task compared to hers.

“Don’t worry, take your time.” Shepard gives her a tired smile.

The geth are the last to exit, except for the two of them. 

She’s still in the same position she’s had for most of the meeting, resting most of her weight against the clear wall.

After a second of enjoying the longed for silence that finally comes back to the room, he gets closer to her.

“You okay?”

“Hum…” She replies, in a higher pitch than her usual, letting her head rest against the wall.

“You sure?”

He takes another step, narrowing even more the distance between them.

“Yeah… Distracted, that’s all.” She clarifies.

“What about?” There’s no hint of playfulness or teasing in his face as he says this, completely oblivious to what Shepard’s just been through. “You can tell me.”

She smiles, breathes little and lets him know the depths of her current feeling with a single word.

“Later.”

The memory of their many innuendos in the last few days manifest themselves on his mind to the sound of it, causing a deep smile on his face followed but a low giggle.

“Really?” Kaidan half asks in awe. “Now?”

Shepard moves her hand to point herself, using her own uniform to explain the origin of the shaking that ended up causing the avalanche.

“You have an unbutton…” 

They lock eyes for a moment, completely lost in each other, before the moment is broken by a sound at the door.

“Later.” She states, while Legion enters the room.

He takes a second before nodding back at her, taking the opportunity to let her see how he clasps the undone button of his uniform before leaving the room, a deep smile invading his face as he states his own goodbye.

“Later.” 

-------------------------------------------

[strazki]

Reblogging because I am having even MORE thoughts than before

If Tyler was transmasc:

When he first came out to Taylor, they stayed up well past midnight in the bathroom while Taylor cut his hair short for him. He was bawling like a baby the whole time

That became one of his fondest childhood memories too, just the sheer joy of finally looking how he felt inside, and getting to share that moment with his sister

Ever since that day, he's never changed the haircut she gave him. She's the only one he lets cut it, and insists on getting the same cut every time

It's just a little reminder of his sister and how much she cares for him

Growing up, Tyler was extremely gifted at softball. When he transitioned, he also had the make the switch from softball to baseball. But, before he started taking hormones or anything else like that, there was nowhere that would let him join

It wasn't until their freshman year of high school when Taylor talked to the school's baseball coach and practically begged him to let Tyler go to the baseball tryouts

The coach did it mostly just to get her off his back, but let Tyler on the team when he realized just how good Tyler was

Ever since then, Taylor has gone to every game and even sticks around at some practices, just so Tyler knows he always has her support, and that he can rely on her, especially if anyone gives him shit about his past

She also went to the gym with him, for a time, to help encourage him to be able to achieve the more muscular, masculine sort of body he hoped for. Once he started taking hormones, though, he started to see progress a lot faster than she did, and she would teasingly call it "cheating" (but she's happy for him)

They still go together to this day, just as a cute little sibling bonding routine they have

One of her longest held secrets, and one that she probably won't tell Tyler for years, is that she has a little jar hidden in her desk stuffed full of bills, labeled "Tyler's top surgery". She's been saving up money ever since he came out to her, in the hopes that she can surprise him with it one day when she has enough

If Taylor was transfem:

If you thought Tyler was overprotective before, oh man, this boy went into OVERDRIVE

He understands how emotionally difficult of a process it is, and did everything he could to help things go as smoothly as possible, because there's nothing he hates more than seeing his sister upset

He is willing to, and has on several occasions, stood up for her to the point of getting into physical fights with people

Taylor was extremely scared going back to school while dressing feminine, so Tyler stuck to her side like glue the whole time. Anytime anyone said something mean? Laughed at her? Posted something cruel online about her? He was out for them like a bounty hunter

After the first couple instances of people getting beat up on her behalf, nobody really ever said anything, and Taylor is forever grateful for how Tyler makes her feel so safe and protected

Taylor had already been growing out her hair for a little while before she told him, so when she came out, Tyler took every photo of her pre-transition and insisted they retook them. Every single one of them.

Slowly, all the photos around the house of Taylor, who never truly smiled much pre-transition, were replaced by this happy, smiling girl with long hair and feminine clothing

He keeps all the old photos of her, and all the old documents mentioning her dead name, stored in a little box he keeps under his bed labeled "KEEP OUT". He hasn't opened it in years in the hopes that he'll slowly forget all those times where she didn't feel like herself

They went shopping together for new clothing on several occasions during her transition, even though Tyler really didn't know much about fashion. It just made him so happy to see his sister like the way she looked in something, for the first time in her life

Also thought I would share this absolute GEM I found in someone's tags in a reblog, because it's fucking hilarious and I’m mad I didn't come up with it

The idea of them just completely swapping identities, to the point where there is almost zero proof either of them were ever the opposite gender, is hilarious to me

Currently obsessed with the thought of trans Taylor or Tyler Hernandez...

Like imagine they just kinda let it slip that they're actually identical twins, and the whole group kinda has a collective moment of pure "???" until the realization hits that they were both assigned the same gender at birth, but one of them transitioned at some point

Bonus points if both of them refuse to say which one of them transitioned and which one didn't

Aiden: So, uh... which one of you is...?

Tyler: Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy.

[nuvoloso]

What's Happening?

Oikawa x m!reader (he/him/his)

A blind date? Why the hell not. Y/n is a wing spiker that plays city volleyball, not for the school, and Iwaizumi decides to play matchmaker.

The ~~ means a change in view or time.

Word Count: 4465

~

Why the hell is Iwaizumi so insistent on this? Y/n thought, as the volleyball player had begun berating him about going out with one of his friends. Iwa had been doing his damn best to get y/n to agree to a blind date with someone on the volleyball team, but he'd seen the guys on that team and nobody had really piqued his interest. Yet, here he was, again, for what felt like the thirtieth time.

"Just say you will, just go out to dinner or a movie or something simple. I've just got a feeling you'll like him, plus you've got nothing to lose. Nobody approaches you anyway." Y/n scoffed, giving Iwa a good shove in the process. He only laughed, "Oh what, you're mad I won't lie to you?"

"I'm mad you said that so loudly, we're in the middle of the hallway." Y/n complained, Iwa only rolling his eyes.

"Well if you'd just accept my invitation I wouldn't have to gloat about your terminal loneliness." Y/n couldn't even think of a witty response to match the absolute destruction Iwa brought with every word he spoke. "So, you're in?" He asked, y/n finally giving up and accepting his proposition.

Iwa grinned triumphantly, and nearly turned to leave, but y/n grabbed his arm, and stuck a finger in his face, "But I swear to god, if this goes south I will break every single one of your fingers so you'll never get to play volleyball ever again." Iwa let out a long whistle at y/n's threat, obviously not very feeling very threatened by it.

"I wouldn't be trying so hard if I didn't think it'd be successful. Just give him a chance, his first impressions aren't the best." Fantastic. "I'll send you details when I confirm with him, ok? Does after practice tonight work for you?" Reluctantly, y/n nodded and let Iwa go. They parted ways and headed towards their classrooms then, y/n's anxiety skyrocketing at the thought of going on a date with someone he didn't even remotely know.

He tried to relax during classes, telling himself over and over that it would be ok because Iwa must be close friends with whoever it was, but the pit in his stomach just kept growing. What if he actually liked whoever it was, but it wasn't mutual? What if he couldn't make conversation and it was just super awkward the whole time? A swarm of 'what ifs' crowded his mind and he didn't get much work done. When the day finally ended, he about booked it out of the classroom, hoping that getting to his practice would help take his mind off things.

In his rush, he ran straight into the back of someone just barely taller than him who'd randomly stopped in the middle of the walkway.

"Shit, sorry. Are you ok?" Y/n asked the stranger, helping him pick up a handful of flyers he had dropped at the collision. He looked to be around the same age as y/n, messy brown hair and gentle features, he looked incredible. There wasn't a single mark on his fair skin, and even though his hair looked untamed, it seemed to fall exactly where the stranger willed it to. He also had a pretty lean build, y/n thought he'd probably be really good at volleyball if he didn't already play it.

The stranger flashed him a smile, "I'm alright, I shouldn't have stopped like that, sorry. Thanks for the help though, you can keep one of them if you'd like." Y/n looked down at the papers he was helping pick up and noticed they were flyers for the volleyball club's match this weekend against Shiratorizawa.

"Are you on the club team here?" Y/n asked, though he felt it was a stupid question given that he was promoting it by hanging up these flyers.

The stranger took no offense to his question though, and nodded. "I'm actually the captain, and the main setter."

"Uh, wow, I'm sorry I'm taking up your time, I'm sure you're busy." He shrugged, the two of them soon standing after having gathered all the loose flyers. "If you want," He offered, "I could take some of the flyers and hand them out to guys on my team, I'm sure they'd like to watch." The captain gave him a slightly confused look, but happily handed him a small stack of the papers.

They started walking towards the main entrance of the school and continued talking about volleyball, the captain immensely interested in y/n's team.

"So you play on a team composed of people from all around Miyagi, not one neighborhood or school in particular? And its aged 16-24?" Y/n nodded in response to each of his questions. "That sounds like it could be a lot of fun, but who do you play against? How do you guys practice if everybody's spread out?"

He explained it the best he could, their system was slightly more complex than the school's. "Those of us that live close to each other practice everyday, and once a week we choose somewhere in Miyagi to meet up and practice as a group. There are other groups in Miyagi that we play against, and some from other prefectures too. City league sports are actually pretty popular, but a lot of people don't know they exist because they're wrapped up in their school's club."

They kept going back and forth until they'd reached the separation point, the stranger headed over to the gyms, and y/n headed out onto the sidewalk to get to his own court.

"Before we go our separate ways, what's your name? I'd like to join one of your practices sometime if that's ok." Y/n was honestly elated to hear that from the captain. Sure Iwa had told him all about how great their team was, and even a little about this captain, but y/n really wanted to see it for himself.

"You can just call me y/n, I'm in class 3-B. What about you?" He replied, extending his hand.

"Oikawa, Tōru." He stated, firmly shaking y/n's hand. "I'm in 3-A, It's nice to meet you y/n, I look forward to playing with you sometime." Oikawa left, off to his gym, and y/n off to his court. He was contemplating texting Iwa to cancel his blind date, not wanting to go out with someone on Oikawa's team after having just met him. He'd rather just go out with the captain, but with the way he looked? There was no way he didn't have a girlfriend or something already.

Y/n tried to keep his mind off the date and the captain, he just wanted to play his game without any distractions.

He was unsuccessful. He was a wing spiker for his team, and he missed well over half of the sets he got. Luckily it was just a regular practice, not the full group one, that was in a few days still. He repeatedly apologized to his teammates, but they didn't hold it against him.

"You seem pretty lost today, what's going on?" His setter asked, while everyone was getting some water.

Y/n sighed, looking up at the sky and taking in the clouds. He loved that they practiced outside, it was so much nicer than being stuck in a gym. "A friend of mine who's on the volleyball team at school has been begging to set me up on a blind date with someone on his team, and I finally agreed to it. It'll be just after we're both done today."

"That sounds like fun! Why aren't you more excited?" Y/n shrugged,

"I met the captain of their team today, and he's everything I could want, but there's no way someone like him is single. I just think it'll be weird if I go out with someone on his team while we just met, I don't know." He mumbled, but his teammates understood his unease about the situation.

One of the older guys on their team, he'd just turned 21, clapped him on the back. "You never know, maybe he's the one you got set up with!" Y/n hadn't even thought about that, Iwa did talk about that captain pretty often...But there was still no way he was single, surely. "Just don't think about it to hard, it's always been your downfall. Live in the moment, y/n!" He weakly smiled at his teammates, thanking them for the confidence boosters.

They got back to their practice shortly after, and y/n's tact started returning.

About an hour and half later his practice had come to an end, and he finally got to start freaking about his blind date. When he got home, he destroyed his closet looking for something to wear, not loving any of his options. He stared at his clothes for several minutes before he realized they weren't going to change by him staring at them. He opted to take a shower and come back, hoping he'd maybe get an idea along the way.

When he'd finished, he threw on a pair of sweats and went back to his room, where he was surprised to find someone sifting through his clothing pile.

"Iwa?" He questioned, guessing that it was his friend by the back of his head. The spiky hair wasn't hard to miss, and soon the intruder had turned around and waved to him.

"Your sister let me in, I figured you'd need help finding an outfit." Y/n rolled his eyes, but didn't get in the way, secretly grateful for the help. "You should wear this, you're going to dinner so it's better to be like business casual. I know that's what he's going for..." Iwa mumbled, now kicking through Y/n's shoes until he found something he liked. Y/n took the outfit from his hands so he could more thoroughly dig through all of his belongings.

"I'll go put this on I guess...?" Iwa was too captivated by his current task to say anything, so y/n just disappeared back into the bathroom to change. He'd picked out a black button down that y/n had forgotten he owned, and a pair of pleated off-white slacks. When he'd assembled it, he actually quite liked it, albeit a bit surprised by Iwa's ability to style an outfit.

He went back to the room, Iwa complimenting him on how it looked. "Now, just add some accessories and keep a few buttons undone and you'll be ready. I set shoes by the door for you, so let's go." Y/n nodded, quickly putting on a few of his favorite rings and a small silver chain, leaving a few of the buttons on his shirt undone like Iwa had told him.

Iwa lead him out the door and they walked for a few blocks, y/n soon knowing where they were going. He'd seen the restaurant a few times, not actually having gotten a chance to try it yet. Iwa sent him off on his own once they were across the street from the restaurant.

"Good luck! Don't take it too seriously, have some fun ok?" He vigorously shook y/n's shoulders before pushing him towards the crosswalk. Y/n gave him a final wave, and made his way to the restaurant.

~

Oikawa checked his watch, he was pretty early. He didn't mind though, he'd be able to get a good table and get some time to figure out how he wanted to play tonight. He'd agreed to the blind date because it was Iwa suggesting it, he knew that despite the dick he was, Iwa wouldn't set him up with someone he wouldn't at least somewhat like. After earlier though, he didn't really want to do this. Bumping into y/n was the highlight of his day, he'd immediately found the guy more than attractive. He acted distant though, as if he didn't want to get close to Tōru for some reason, but he couldn't be sure, they'd just met.

You're not here for him though, focus. As much as he wanted the evening to already be over, he would entertain his date and ensure they both had a nice enough time. He'd hate for it to be a total waste of time and money so he told himself he'd stick it through no matter what.

Several minutes passed, and it was nearly the agreed upon time now, Oikawa becoming slightly nervous he'd be stood up even though they didn't know each other.

"Eh? Oikawa? What're you doing here?" He'd been looking at the menu, but the familiar voice jarred him. He looked over, and noticed the waitress was gesturing for him to sit, and saying she'd be back to take our orders in a few minutes.

"Y/n! I'm, uh-my friend set me up on a blind date, what a coincidence seeing you here. You must be meeting your boyfr- I mean your partner or something. You look great!" Oikawa felt his face heating up, he shouldn't have just assumed that y/n was queer, and now he'd made things weird, awesome.

Y/n didn't seem phased by his words though, in fact he started laughing. "That damn Hajime." The realization soon settled on Oikawa, y/n was his blind date. Here he'd been, hoping that it would happen, and he had gotten exactly what he'd wanted.

"Well, it's good to see you again, so soon!" Y/n smiled, "What're the odds?" Oikawa chucked, relieved y/n hadn't reacted strangely to his mumblings before. Y/n opened his menu, sifting through the options, but couldn't seem to pick one out.

"Can I recommend something?" Oikawa asked.

Y/n looked up at him and immediately closed his menu, setting his gaze on Oikawa, lightly laughing as he accepted his invitation. "God please, there's so much to chose from I can barely think." Oikawa giggled and pointed out a few options that had caught his eye, but he noticed that y/n wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying. He just kept his eyes on Oikawa while he spoke, it felt like he was more focused on his movements than what he was actually saying.

Oikawa quieted when the waitress came back and asked for their orders, y/n gesturing for him to go first. "I'll have a bowl of Nabeyaki Udon, please." She smiled at him, and moved her focus to y/n.

"I'll have the same, thank you." She nodded, and left the two once again.

"Not very creative, y/n." He commented, y/n quickly rolling his eyes.

"I couldn't decide! If it's good enough for you to eat, I'm sure it'll be more than fine for me too." Y/n nervously laughed, Oikawa noticing him shifting in his seat and playing with his hands. He was nervous. Oikawa couldn't decide whether he wanted to say to say something or not, he didn't want to make things worse by any means but he didn't want y/n to be that nervous to be on a date with him.

He pursed his lips for a moment, then did his best to offer the nervous a kind smile. "Why're you so shaken up? Didn't want it to be me?" He joked, hoping y/n would pick up on the tone in his voice.

Thankfully, it seemed like he had. "No, no, I'm glad it's you! I mean, it's not a bad thing that it's you. It's actually kind of nice since we already met." He rambled, but the nervous energy that surrounded him seemed to fade. "I just, I dunno, I couldn't imagine that you could possibly be...single, I guess." He said, Oikawa's eyebrows raising in surprise. "No offense! It's just that you're so, charismatic and uh, yeah you're- fuck." He buried his head in his hands, Oikawa chuckling at his state.

"It's ok, maybe I was just waiting for you to come along..." He smirked, y/n's head moving from his hands onto the table, the tips of his ears having turned pink. "Aw, blushing for me? I'm honored!" Y/n couldn't even attempt to look at Oikawa.

"Will you shut up for a few minutes so I can fucking relax?!" Oikawa laughed, and reached his arms out to rest his hands on y/n's.

"No." When y/n felt Oikawa's hands on his own, he immediately looked up at him. He didn't try to move his hands out from under Tōru's, which he was grateful for, but he couldn't seem to string any words together.

The waitress saved him, having reappeared at their table with the food they'd ordered. Oikawa retracted his hands from y/n's as his and the other's bowls were placed in front of them. They both thanked her and started digging into their food. Things were quiet for several minutes, neither really wanting to attempt conversation while they ate, but Tōru could tell the tension between them had largely dissipated.

After they'd eaten, they made small talk, about hobbies, favorite colors, all the usual. Eventually, the check came to them and Oikawa managed to pay for everything, much to y/n's dismay. They'd argued as much as they could've until the waitress had shown up again and Oikawa forced the bill out of y/n's hands.

"I'll pay next time, it's only fair." Y/n said as they were leaving the restaurant.

"Next time? Another date, you mean?" He questioned, hoping to see y/n change colors again. This time though, y/n put a sliver of confidence in himself and his response.

"Obviously, you couldn't keep your eyes or your hands to yourself. Of course there'd be another date." The way he raised an eyebrow at Oikawa reminded him a bit of himself, but he loved that y/n could dish it back to him. "Anyway," he ventured, "Can I walk you home? Unless you wanted to do something else."

Truthfully, Tōru didn't want the night to end. He longed to come up with activity after activity so he could stay with y/n, he had a calming presence which helped ease Tōru's ever-crowded mind. He was always thinking about volleyball and school, always about how he could be improving or what he'd been doing wrong. But tonight - tonight he hadn't thought about anything except for y/n, making him laugh or blush, or just listening to what he had to say.

"Hey, are you there? Did I scare you or something?" He looked up, now realizing he'd totally spaced out and didn't even know for how long.

He blinked a few times, and looked around. Apparently they'd ended up walking to some park he didn't immediately recognize. "Sorry, I just got distracted, my bad. Also, where are we?" Y/n lightly laughed and looked around, apparently also not having realized they'd kept walking directionless.

"This, oh this is the park where I practice! I guess I came here out of habit, the court we use is over there." He pointed over to where a net was set up and there was a rectangle of concrete with painted lines. "So, uh, did you want me to walk you home? Or...?" Ah right his question from earlier. Let's try not to forget to answer it this time.

"Well, I don't have plans for the rest of the evening, and it's not super late yet... But if you do, then we can totally-"

"I don't." Y/n interrupted, his clam gaze making Oikawa a bit anxious. Ever since they left the restaurant, the vibes had completely switched, Oikawa was forgetting who he was and what was going on while y/n flirted and stayed collected. "I've still got my keys, I could grab a ball if you want to hit a few." Finally, something Tōru understood. If there was one thing he couldn't look bad doing, it was volleyball.

"If you insist." He replied. "Try not to get too intimidated though, I'm one of the best y'know." Again, y/n didn't falter at his attempt to fluster him.

"But you haven't made it to nationals like Miya has, so why should I be scared?" MIYA? Y/n knew someone who played at the national level? Now he wasn't so sure about what he'd said. Of course he knew he was a fantastic setter, one of the best in his own opinion, but he'd not played against or with someone who was a regular at nationals.

At an attempt to collect himself, he waved off y/n's comment. "So what? Just because I haven't made it to nationals yet doesn't mean I'm not the best setter out there."

"I guess we'll just have to see." Y/n shot back, before jogging over to the storage shed near the court. He dug out a volleyball and tossed it to Oikawa, who gently received it without a second thought.

"You said you're wing spiker, right?" He asked, y/n nodded. "What kind of set do you like?" This time, y/n only shrugged.

"You'll just have to figure it out, 'best setter out there'." He sneered, walking onto the concrete platform and towards the right side. Oikawa scoffed and went off towards the left. I'll find out, on the first one. He told himself, though it wasn't the most realistic, but he always like a challenge.

Oikawa set, and y/n spiked over and over again, Oikawa priding himself on figuring out what y/n liked within his first (but likely his second or third) set. They only stopped when it had gotten too dark out to see very clearly over the net, both of them having a slight sweat. As y/n put the ball back, Oikawa asked him more about how he knew the person from nationals, it bothered him that y/n might have had a setter that he thought was better.

"Oh, Miya? God I don't even remember how we met, I think he plays for a city team in his spare time." Y/n said, "Yeah, we met at a tournament. His team beat us, but only barely, we did five sets and it was down to the last, the score I think was 20-22 in the end." Oikawa whistled, he knew how exhausting a game like that could be. "Anyway, after we played against each other, he approached me and almost begged me to let him set for me." He laughed to himself, but Oikawa's mind was everywhere. "We played a little after that game and became good friends, he always updates me on his tournaments and games."

Oikawa's fatal flaw was that he had a massive god-complex, and right now it was definitely being complex. His mind was about to take a total downward turn when y/n punched his shoulder.

"Don't look like that, you idiot." Y/n sneered.

"What? Look like what?" He demanded.

"Don't get jealous. Don't get upset just because I know some great setter, I can't even begin to compare you two and you've never even met him. Don't get your tits in a twist so quickly, now come on it's dark, we're both tired, and it's obviously past your bedtime." Tōru's mind went blank, even if he could think up a response, there'd be now way he'd bring himself to say it. He hadn't been put in his place like that before, sure Iwa gave him reality checks every now and then, but nobody could read him like that.

Y/n started walking, but turned to face Tōru and held out his hand, waiting for him to take it. He didn't say anything, just waved his hand around and stared at Tōru until he finally took it. Y/n's hand was warm, and strong, just like a spiker's should be.

"Where's your house?" Y/n asked him, his face void of any snark or ego that it had only moments earlier.

"It's up by the school, two streets north." Y/n nodded and confidently lead him in the general direction. "How are you so calm all of a sudden?" He found himself asking, the events of their date confusing him.

Y/n chuckled as he looked to the sky. "After you ripped the bill out of my hands at that restaurant, I knew you weren't as serious or intimidating as I had thought you were when I first met you. Our conversations and getting to hit your sets after we ate was so much more relaxed, I just felt like I could be myself. I don't like formal situations like sit down dinners at fancy restaurants, I didn't even know what to wear, Iwa picked this out."

Hearing that Hajime had picked out what y/n was wearing made Tōru feel better, he thought he was a total disaster today but he hadn't been alone. "I thought this was going to be easy, but you just keep making me forget how to think." He lightly squeezed Tōru's hand at the comment,

"That's probably a good thing, isn't it? You probably think way to much." He sighed,

"You're definitely right. Guess I'm extremely lucky for having you physically run into me today."

Y/n smiled, "You're so welcome."

They approached Oikawa's neighborhood, and he directed y/n to his house, y/n only letting go of Oikawa's hand when they got to his front steps. "Thanks, for tonight. It was fun, I'm looking forward to next time." Y/n said, a slight blush dusting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

"Me too, even though I'll probably see you again tomorrow, right?" Y/n's face dropped, he'd totally forgotten they went to school together.

Thoroughly embarrassed, he rubbed the back of his neck and tried to laugh it off. "Eh, true- our classes are neighbors." He took a deep breath and faced Tōru, "Well, I'll see you later. Have a good night, Oikawa." He barely got a chance to reply before y/n had turned around to leave, so he grabbed the shoulder closest to him, and turned the boy to face him again.

"What, no goodbye kiss? We're basically dating now right?" Y/n turned nearly purple at the comment, definitely not having expected it. He tried stuttering out some kind of response, so Oikawa put him out of his misery and tugged the gent towards him.

He could feel y/n's anxiety melt away as they kissed, his arms wrapping around Tōru's waist, his in return folding around y/n's neck. Y/n couldn't believe what was happening, but he was beyond happy that it was.

[akiizayoi4869]

Smoke and Shadow: "Trust is for fools! Fear is the only reliable way" on steroids

In the series finale, we hear Azula say this to her hallucination of Ursa. And boy did Yang take that and basically make it the theme for this comic. In the beginning, we have Azula and her crew appear before Ukano, dressed up as if they're all going to a Halloween party.

Azula is basically the Boogeyman in this. For some reason, her plan was to kidnap children with her new crew to instill fear into the hearts of the fire nation citizens… and so that Zuko could rule by using fear himself. Which, according to Azula, is how she would rule if she was the fire lord. This whole entire plan of hers made no sense and is unlike what she was in the show. Yang just ruined her in this. Even more so than what he did to her in The Search. Especially by having her tell Zuko about her "master plan" for him at the end. Because that was really smart. We also have some more ableism, because why not. Mai and Ty Lee meet up and Ty Lee tells her about how Zuko took Azula with him to search for Ursa. Mai's immediate response is "He let that lunatic out? He really is turning into his father!"

Of course Azula is a lunatic to these people, because why wouldn't she be? Everyone knows that the moment you are placed into a mental institution, you should be branded as crazy and therefore nobody should give a shit about you anymore and you deserve to be locked up and abused. The Search proves that for us. Mai seems to give a shit about her brother in this, which is odd since she seemed to care very little about him in the show. According to the commentary in the book, here is Yang's reasoning for that:

GLY: When Mai, Tom-Tom, and their parents first appeared in "Return to Omashu", Mai wasn't all that warm to her little brother. In fact, she was willing to go along with Azula's plan to give him up to Team Avatar. 

As the series progressed, however, we saw Mai opening up. She made a place in her heart for Zuko. She gathered her courage and stood up to Azula. These changes allowed her to warm up to her brother, too.

Idk what all of that has to do with the relationship with her brother, but whatever.

Yang also did more self projection (because of course he did) which just ruined the overall plot.

GLY: As I was working and reworking the outline for Smoke and Shadow, fear emerged as the dominant theme for the book. It made sense. At the time, I was struggling with a lot of fear in my writing life. I had taken on multiple projects, a couple of which just seemed too big for me. In a lot of ways, writing Smoke and Shadow was therapy for me.

It sure as hell wasn't therapy for all the characters that he wrote horribly.

I had originally chosen this title for the post because just based on what I heard about the book before I started reading it, that's what it sounded like to me. Plus I thought it would be funny. Then I came across this note in the commentary:

GLY: Were you surprised by Azula's appearance? I hope so. The Kemurikage are the embodiment of fear. Since Azula's most potent weapon is fear, it seemed fitting to make her the leader.

As she said in the series finale, "Trust is for fools! Fear is the only reliable way."

This man actually took what she said and went to the extremes with it for the plot of this book. If one can even call it a plot. And he proves once again that he didn't understand her character at all. Azula's most potent weapon is her mind, not fear. Reading this felt like I was reading yet another horrible fanfiction story. This book was actually worse than The Search, just because of the plot alone. Even without the heaping amounts of abuse apologism and ableism. And that's scary.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#285

“Hey, I bet you’re surprised to see me after all these years, hunh?,,, Well my daughter’s softball team finished playing Springfield High this afternoon. She’s right now hanging with her old friends. I told her to take her time; I’ll be visiting my old friends and stomping grounds. And here I am, looking to get my cock taken care of….

“They’ve cleaned up this place. I see the bushes where I’d plow your cunt are gone. Same thing for the area under the overpass. What about the john? Is it cleaned up too, or is it still a filthy shithole?... Let’s go see.

“My cock has a week’s load ready to burst. I hope your cunt is cleaned out. If not, you will be sucking off any mud you get on it…. Yeah, I’ve changed a bit. Once I moved to the city, I was finding fags who wanted me to do nasty stuff, way more than what you were begging.

“Then I met my best bud at this dirty bookstore. He was using the fags there. I followed his lead. Afterwards he and I started talking. He has shown me a lot of things. The one thing that I have come to learn is that there are men and there are the faggots that serve the men. Nasty faggots willing to do whatever I want.

“I thought of you. All those times you begged to drink my piss or eat my ass or get slapped around. You were begging for a man to make you a faggot. You were craving that kind of treatment, weren’t you?... Nevermind, don’t answer; I can see it on your faggot face.

“Well the toilet building looks the same. Interesting they cleaned up the grounds but left this shithole alone…. Jesus! I don’t think they cleaned in here since I left. Nasty. They took down the toilet partition. I guess they got tired covering up the glory holes…. Fuck, that smell! It’s like week old piss along with diesel. Nasty. Shit, there’s needles over there, next to that pile of shit. They don’t even try to sit on the toilet. Well fuck, I can see why, that doesn’t look like it has been flushed in days. Good fucking lord.

“OK faggot, I gotta piss, and the only toilet I would consider pissing into is you. Get naked and on your knees…. Don’t give me that look. You are a nasty disgusting faggot, and this place should feel like home.

“I said naked! I will rip off those fucking faggot clothes of yours, drag you over to that toilet and use your face as a plunger. Naked!

“Yup. Everything means socks and shoes too…. Now on your knees. One thing. You are never to touch that useless thing between your legs. My bud has his faggot bitches wear this piece of plastic with a lock on it. He doesn’t allow them to touch themselves, ever. If I was still local, you better believe I would have taken ownership of it.

“Now, open your toilet mouth. I need to work aiming on my piss. When your mouth gets full, gulp it down. I don’t care if that means closing your toilet mouth for a moment.

“That feels so good. I’ve been holding it in for just this moment. Fuck. Almost as good as cumming. Here, take my dick head in your mouth and savor the last few drops. That’s it. No, don’t suck. I have better uses for that tongue.

“After all these years, you finally get to tongue fuck my shithole. I can’t believe there was a time that I thought getting my bunghole spit shined clean was nasty, but now every fucking faggot I use must tongue me deep…. Damn, you know how to do it…. It's like you were made for this. Oh man! I need to fuck one of your holes. Pull back.

“Get your nasty face on the floor, in my piss puddle. Show me your nasty cunt. Spread your cheeks. Oh man, I’m going in right to the root, faggot. Scream all you want, I don’t care. One wad of spit is all you are good for.

“Oh man does your cunt feel good, better than before. Fucking you is like riding a used bike. I bet you’ve had hundreds of men in this nasty cunt in the past few years, you nasty faggot whore. I bet some of them knew you were a faggot, nothing more than a cunt to fuck.

“I would love to take you on one of the biker runs I go on. You can be one of the club’s whores. Countless real men treating you like the trash you are. You know you crave that.

“I’m about ready to bust my nut. You ready. That cunt is going to be full of my cum slop. Here you go faggot. Here. You. Go! Urgh! Urgh! Uhhhhh. Fuck!

“Clamp down when I pull out. Fuck. Don’t fucking move a muscle. In fact, reach around and pull apart those cheeks. Let some of my load drool out. Like that. Keep your face in my piss. Don’t fucking move.

“Got it! Got a few pics I’m texting to my bud. He’s going to love it. I took a pic of the whole bathroom and you in the middle, showing off your freshly cunted hole.

“Go on finger yourself. Taste the cunt soup. You earned it.

“…Just heard back from my bud. Ok faggot, here’s the deal. My daughter is with her friends. I’m texting her that I will pick her up on Monday. She won’t care; she’s with her longtime friends again. You have a choice here. Cancel whatever weekend plans you have and come with me and be my nasty faggot slut whore. My bud’s at a bike run three hours away from here. You will be one of three faggot whores there to take care of twenty-something number of bikers. You will be fucked, pissed in, roughed up, and some other shit I’m still learning about. Some of those bikers are real nasty. They would love this toilet. Throughout the weekend, you belong to me. I'd fucking own that filthy cunt.

"Or we can say good-bye. Take the time you need to think about it. I will be in my truck with your clothes and shit. Come out when you are ready to give me an answer. Don’t worry about being naked in a public place. Faggots like you usually have no choice. And this weekend you won't have one."

[hozierandco]

Callum Turner x Reader - The After-Match pt. 2 (SMUT)

A few seconds later, the referee whistled the end of the game, making cheerful and despondent people in the audience.

Cal, 10.56 pm: You better be home in 30 minutes or I'm starting the after-match without you

Y/N, 10.57 pm: I'll be there in no time!

A wave of cheers had engulfed the streets: Chelsea had won and it was only the beginning of a long night for the supporters that had assembled from all around, from Trafalgar Square to Greenwich, from Brixton to Hammersmith.

Horns beeping everywhere, pedestrians with beer in their hand and their voices broken.

"Are you joining us, Callum? We're going to the pub to celebrate!"

"Nah, tonight I'm celebrating with Y/N!"

Callum's friends all chuckled while looking at each other "You lucky bastard!", one snickered.

"We're not holding you back then!", another added.

"Have a great night, lads!", Callum said while getting his coat that had been discarded on the hat stand by the door.

"Yeah, you too!"

There was no time to lose. He could not take a cab since he had not booked any and going with his own two feet would take him nearly an hour. He knew that an hour would be way too long and that his body would not be able to cope.

From the moment he had read that Y/N had been cheeky enough not to wear any undergarments, he had felt a bulge flourishing. He had benefitted from the half-time to try and get rid of the tide that was boiling in his boxers, to no avail.

He then decided to take the tube, hoping in his innermost that the next train wouldn't last too long to arrive and that it wouldn't be too crowded. The Northern line usually was not at that time of the night but it was a game night so who knew...

He ran to the Angel train station as his phone indicated that the next train would be there in 10 minutes.

Cal, 11.09 pm: Shit, Y/N, you've got me running... The things I wouldn't do to fuck you...

Cal, 11.12 pm: U there?

But Y/N too was busy running. If the road from Regent's Park to Primrose Hill was a rather short one, she had taken too much time parting from her friends and was now late for Callum's plans.

Y/N, 11.14 pm: It's only your warm-up Cal'

Cal, 11.16 pm: From now on, it's "sir" for you!

Only a few seconds after reading the instruction, Y/N heard her phone writhe again.

Cal, 11.16 pm: If you're not here in ten minutes, I swear things will go very wrong for you!

It was all that Y/N needed to go back to her running although she was aroused at the idea that things could go "very wrong" according to her boyfriend.

She had one last street to walk by. She looked at her phone: 11.23 pm. Why are the London streets so long, she thought...

Finally the door to the Georgian hôtel particulier they shared with three other tenants. 11.25 pm.

She walked in only to notice that Callum was standing under the bare lightbulb in their living room.

"Congratulations for the game!"

"Yeah...", Callum said absent-mindedly. Y/N understood what Callum was doing: he was going through all the possibilities he had to take as much pleasure with her.

In love, Callum was the romantic type with a twist. It did not take him much to change from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde but he always valued Y/N's pleasure over his, always listening to the echoes of her lust. He was a passionate lover beyond the shadow of a doubt.

But that night, Chelsea had won and a deal is a deal.

Callum walked in a painfully slow pace towards Y/N with his large hands behind his back. When he was at her level, he stood in a parallel way behind her back and with one hand started descending on Y/N's dress. He had to check by himself.

Careful as not to touch her genitalia for the time being as he was not willing to surrender now, he grazed her hips and noticed that she had not lied.

"You really didn't wear no panties, huh?"

"I wouldn't lie to you, Cal"

Callum clucked his tongue and corrected her while putting his two hands on her shoulders "What did I say? It's "sir" for the misbehaving girls who wear slim dresses with nothing under them"

"I wouldn't lie to you, Sir"

Callum flipped Y/N around so that she was now facing him and ignited a symphony of kisses on her neck, her forehead and finally on her mouth. With each kiss, he went stronger too which Y/N replied by forcing her tongue to meet his.

Callum pulled her even closer and was ready to take her right there on the spot but he had another plans. With the contact of his beige chino trousers over her velvet dress, Y/N could spot the bulge that Callum had tried so hard to hide.

She might have looked a little too much for Callum had to intervene "Since you seem to like what you see, how about you get on your pretty knees and suck me off while you're at it"

"Yes, sir"

Y/N hoped that she would not be the cause for a pond on the floor as she had not anticipated that not wearing underwear could come with such consequences.

She executed herself and got on her knees. Right there, in the living room by the sole light emanating from the lightbulb and with the only sound of the supporters from afar.

She used Callum's legs as a support to get down and nodded at her boyfriend's "Are you okay with that?"

She was eager for the touch she had craved for almost ten days. When Callum had to leave abruptly earlier in the night, she had sensed it as a treason. Surely, he knew what he was doing, not giving her any attention for days and all of a sudden being all smitten.

He knew th ehold he had on her and knew the mess she would become if he started a fire only to let the sparks burning behind him.

Y/N then took Callum's trousers and boxers off in one brief moment, thus revealing the proud length that was finally being acknowledged and addressed.

Without further ado, Y/N stroked the thick column with her right hand, taking care of the two other inhabitants with her other one.

Callum could at last savour the fruit of his team's victory and his patience paying.

He was still standing tall on his two feet and came to the dramatic conclusion that he would soon need a pillar to rest on if he did not wish to fall. And would need one very soon as a matter of fact, considering the speed Y/N had gotten her hands used to. He chose Y/N's hair as a pillar and started running his hands in it.

All in her reactions appeared as though she would follow to the letter his commands. She had hungry plums in place of her eyes that manifested her lust to get more from the interaction. And her mouth was watering in expectation of the forbidden fruit that she would gladly receive. Slight moans slipped through her teeth, echoed by Callum's bestial growl.

Some foam oozed out of the head of his member, which seemed to be the signal Y/N had waited to get her mouth have a taste at it. She lapped up the drops of cum before getting more inside.

"All fucking night, I've been dreaming about this..."

"... And Chelsea winning too, I suppose?" Y/N retorted as she caught her breath back.

"Only close second to this", he assured with a moan on the corner of his lips and his hands directing her mouth to find its way back on where it was aching.

Callum's head tilted back as the petite mort was about to overflow and take him in its wake "Oh! Fuck, Y/N"

Once Callum's cock was empty of its ambrosia, Callum held a hand at Y/N to invite her to stand up and once she stood in front of him, he kissed her. In his kiss, he led the parade towards their bedroom.

"Anything else I can do for you, sir?" Y/N playfully inquired in a moment of respite that her lover had been generous to offer. In fact, he also needed it as he was still panting from the kissing and the blowjob.

"Ride me", Callum said in a deadpan tone.

"Anything you want, sir!"

Callum had only had the time to pick his boxers from the floor of the living room but had relinquished his trousers over there. He lay all of his tall body on the bed, taking off his shirt in the process.

Still standing by the end of the bed, Y/N got her knees on the extremity of it, moving on all fours heading straight and as soft as a panther to her boyfriend.

She straddled him, pushing her hair to one side of her face. As she could feel the bulge forming again under her pounding groin, she took off her dress, passing the piece of cloth over her head. In a second when she did not have eyes on Callum as the dress was right before her eyes, he fondled the two pomegranates that introduce themselves to him.

He had straightened up and was now in a right angle to the headboard. In a perfect position to let his lips wander right between the two breasts.

"Fuck! You just never stop being gorgeous, do you?"

Y/N rubbed her pelvis against the actor's boxers on the spot where his growing protrusion was.

"Good God, I hope you're enjoying yourself... Teasing me like that..."

Y/N continued pleasuring her cavity as she purred at Callum's words. To help her on her merry-go-round and because he was craving more, he held her by her hips, enabling circles of bliss. He felt as though he was a bull on a rodeo stand, enjoying the view and wandering on her stomach, breasts and neck.

If there was one thing Callum loved above all, it was to see Y/N being satisfied. In their sex life, it translated in him usually being aroused by the simple sight of her coming. He could come too if he saw just how great it was for her.

"You're so bloody hot!", he commented almost breathless "but I really need to feel how wet you've gotten for me"

Y/N removed just enough of his boxers to grasp the tip of his cock which she plunged into her in one swift movement and carried on riding her boyfriend"

Y/N came some minutes later, too glad that she was finally getting all the attention she deserved. When Callum joined her, he let go of Y/N as she seemed exhausting from so much riding. As she lay on the bed, he slid under the sheets, to the level of her waterfall, desperate to have a taste of both fluids.

It was Y/N's turn to pull Callum's hair to show him how she wanted to be pleasured which Callum blindly followed. Shutting his eyes, he could feel the drops filling his mouth.

His tongue found its way through the humid weather. Y/N had always loved her lover's meticulousness when it came to that subject. It was as though he was under a mysterious spell, completely in trance. He was devoted and took all his time to give her all that she deserved.

Y/N wiggled under his moving head, moaning louder and louder by every stroke his tongue was taking.

"Callum!", she cried in the night as the supporters had grown quieter.

This time around, Callum did not correct her as having her come with his Christian name on her lips was worth all the gold in the world.

[firesofdainix]

October 18: Desires | Happy Endings Huzzah! Something happy for once! Of course I need to give Morro a break from all the shit I’ve been throwing at him left and right! Or... is it?

Just kidding it’s happy!

Ha!

@morrotober

AO3 Version

Morro can feel himself burning.

He was being dragged down to the water, and he had no idea why he was desperate not to be doused by water, initially, before an old man came to attempt to reason with him, choosing life rather than death. Morro did not even need to think, choosing the right thing as he strains himself to give the old man the crystal in his hand.

Morro feels himself drowning, as his legs first disintegrate like dust in the water—

*

“Morro, if you keep sleeping like a Grundle, you’ll be late for your duties!” A warm voice fills his senses, immediately filling him with energy that could last forever. “The Green Ninja may need to sleep for eight hours a day but you're exceeding ten!”

Green-gold eyes with blue wisps open slightly, welcoming the morning sun with a tired, but cheerful smile. He yawns, stretching his arms as he begins to make his bed, knowing how much Wu and Misako would get on his case with his unmade bed. After making his bed, he finally changes out of his night clothes, thin and weightless, to his rather regal and modest Green gi. The symbol of the ninja’s hope— the Green Ninja. The chicken which his subordinates all fear manages to waddle into his room, and in lieu of shooing it away, he pets it like he does with a dog. “Morning to you too, chicken.” He says with a chuckle.

Taking one of his weapons from the rack, he exits his bedroom to greet his family a plentiful good morning.

He finds all of them seated at the dinner table when he scampers towards the hallway, knowing that Wu would just consider him late again when he was inexplicably early. Wu’s students, additionally his teammates, were seated in another side of the dinner table, not mixing in with the family that had been established prior to their recruitment. While Morro was a bit saddened that the others are still not confident in, say, breaching their familiar grounds, he accepts their hesitation. At least their inductive formality fades when he is in the room, meaning they are more willing to touch upon the happenings of family.

Kai is the first one to see him, out of their teammates, and Lloyd, who was busily doing his homework (because he refused to do all of it last night and is now paying the price) glances up at the same time.

The spiky, red-haired boy bares his fangs as a warm smile makes its way through his face. “Well, if it isn’t the Green Ninja. Got tardy because you had to fight criminals in your sleep?”

Morro rolls his eyes fondly. “The only crime here is your hair. It needs better hair gel.” He takes a seat between his family and his teammates, signifying that he is the bridge that closes the gap between them.

Kai lets out a mock offended gasp. “Oh, now that’s a low blow! I’m going to quit the team and become a villain thanks to this insult!”

“I don’t believe anyone else would see you as a very effective villain,” Morro replies as he reaches for a plate, already filling it with breakfast. He is careful not to drop a single morsel of his food or a drop of his water towards the boy beside him, dutifully doing his homework. He has a thoughtful, almost frustrated expression on his face. Morro sighs; this is why he decided to be homeschooled. At least Wu can teach him something. “Be careful, Lloyd, you’ll end up exploding.”

Said blonde boy sticks his tongue out. “Just because I’m not the Green Ninja, doesn’t mean you get to say that to me.”

Morro laughs, “Like what?”

"Like saying you don't have homework. Everyone has homework, dummy, even the Green Ninja has them."

"Oh yeah?" He perches on his hands as well, ignoring his food and water. Somehow, he wasn't fond of drinking water just for a moment, his mind still on that bizarre dream he had this morning. It was rather dark, as well, and seeing the vision of water burning him… He hides his shudder with a barely efficient smile. "You believe I, the Green Ninja, still have homework? Like what?"

"By saving people from the bad guys." Lloyd points out, and Morro hums. "That's your homework. While you go and look good in the cameras, I have to suffer in school. That's how easy your task is."

He chuckles. "Like getting all the girls?"

Jay interrupts their banter with a snort. "And we all know you don't like the attention, windbag."

Morro, like any mature adult, sticks his tongue out towards Jay. Before he can say anything else, however, Misako tuts.

"Morro, do not distract my son from learning," she says with a fond exasperation, leaning over to ruffle her son's hair.  "And you should focus on your ninja duties. Wu and my husband will be quite mad if you do not attend their current session."

Morro nods. He will never cross Misako. She can get quite… intimidating when she gets angry. It's almost a gift, having to discipline her family when she was just a human with no visible ability other than her peripheral, surprising amount of knowledge. Because of her ability as one of the people who can defuse a situation in the house, he highly respects her. Especially when she both has to deal with historical works and also taking care of a rambunctious child such as Lloyd. He turns back to his food, finding his energy returning as he starts to take a bite out of it. He doesn't know why he didn't have the energy to stomach it, initially.

After breakfast, he immediately starts towards the courtyard, in which, unsurprisingly, Wu and Garmadon are debating over something minor. Perhaps about which beverage is better: tea or coffee. Their routine would frequently end with Morro wanting to say it was coffee to rile Wu up, but Garmadon is already doing that. He lets a small laugh out from his mouth when Wu’s face resembles something close to an enraged frown, meaning that, unsurprisingly, his older brother has baited him into reacting about something very emotionally taxing.

“Good morning, Father, Uncle Garmadon,” he says lightly, a smile on his face as he walks towards them. It doesn't feel weird to call Wu his father any longer; because if we are looking at it in a practical way, he was. He helped raise him, loved him, and cared for him, the way that his father and sisters should have. With a playful smirk, he asks, “What are you two debating about again? Tea and coffee?”

Garmadon chuckles as Wu merely lets out a hmph. “Your father refuses to acknowledge that caffeine is, simply, better than brewing tea.”

“Caffeine does not have healing properties,” Wu retorts, slightly petulantly. “It will only make you feel jittery and shaky.”

Morro rolls his eyes. “We all know the best beverage in the world is juice.”

Garmadon and Wu turn to him, equally outraged. “Oh, now you are simply being wrong, my nephew.” His uncle says, looking as if he is motivated to hit him with the staff. Morro makes the good idea to take a step back from his uncle.

The golden-haired man next to him nods. “You are being superficial, Morro.”

He shrugs. “I am not.”

He rolls his eyes once more. It was a habit that he could not really let go of, really. “Do you have any duties to assign to me? I am Ninjago’s beloved Green Ninja, after all.” He smirks to complete his gloating.

Garmadon sighs, giving Wu a baleful look. “You have turned him proud, brother.”

Wu smiles, “He should be proud.”

The older man chuckles, but he proceeds to approach Morro with a slip of paper he dug out of his pocket. He puts it on Morro’s free hand, and the young man looks at it with a confused look. “Says here Ninjago City has, once again, a skirmish with the Serpentine once more.”

The young man lets out an exhale. “Those guys never give up, do they?”

“I am afraid not.” Wu gives him a small look of encouragement. “Do you need your friends with you for this assignment?”

Morro tilts his head as if he was thinking about his answer, knowing that, for minor assignments such as this, there is only one definitive answer. “I don’t think so! As much as I love being their leader, I think they can appreciate their days off!”

Wu chuckles, letting him go. He misses his touch already. Morro sheathes his blade inside the scabbard of his back, as he waves goodbye to the two brothers, a soft smile on his face.

"Oh, wait, Morro!" He turns back with a confused look on his face. Wu gives him a soft, caring smile. "I love you."

Morro stands there, frozen. It felt… strange. This entire sensation of him being pulled towards Wu was strange. He swears he has heard it before, but for some reason he feels as if this is his first time he's heard him say that.

With a smile, he says, "I love you too!" This sentiment also feels unfamiliar in his tongue, but he shrugs it off.

As he walks towards the exit of the monastery, he could feel the world fading, as he enters into a daze, the background turning liquid, as if it was just a stream from the waterfalls. Morro did not know what to make of it though; somehow, he should feel blasè about how the world is being taken away from him, one step at a time. He hears the ambient noise turn into an unsettling static as he continues to step forward. For some reason, he never wanted to turn back, a feeling of guttural, erupting regret that he never thought he could feel before starts to form inside of him, waiting to explode into something worse as he walks. He believes he didn’t deserve to be given this world, this… this dream of all his desires.

It was as if this was not his world.

*

*

Morro chokes as he opens his eyes. Instead of being greeted by the light of a room and Wu offering him a small smile and placing a tray of tea on his lap, he is greeted by darkness, empty and foreboding, so unlike the beautiful, wondrous dream that he just had. The air in his lungs was gone — did he even have lungs in the first place? — null and voice. Even his skin and clothes have disappeared, replaced by a sense of rigidity and cold that spreads through his body like a winter hell. His corporeal hand, translucent and cold, grapples at the ground, hoping he could find his bedsheets that were so warm, so soft…

He finds only the hard ground instead.

He chokes, panting as he pounds on his chest. He realizes too late that he has gotten so used to breathing in that stupid dream that he forgot he didn’t need to breathe. He was dead, and always had been since he was seventeen, perishing in the Caves of Despair.

When he finally comes to, form stable and thoughts not battling each other over the integrity of the dream, he rises from the cold, harsh ground from which he was laying down. The Departed Realm resembles the Cursed Realm (or, rather, a part of the Departed Realm, but he was not ready for that talk) too much, to the point he almost panics at the sight of the dark skies and the trees that are planted before their extinction. He sighs at the sight of green plumes of smoke everywhere, creating a make-shift aurora in the desolate, empty sky. It was a little much more tolerable than the Cursed Realm; there are no toxic bogs, there are no cruel ghosts, no Preeminent (unless she wasn’t actively looking for him) watching his every move.

But the Departed Realm is cruel in its own right.

Morro stares ahead of him, into the nothingness of the valleys, his mind shrouded in that disgusting dream. So that was supposed to be his desire and happy ending, huh? He snorts to himself; he did not think he could still have the chance and possibility to dream about such things.

Morro has been granted access in The Well of Regrets and The Fields of the Elementals; however, since he was a ‘Cursed’ soul initially, filled with rues and resentment he still did not learn how to let go of, he spends most of his time in the Well of Regrets, with other sad, sorry shades, inflicted with so many of the what-could-have-been and the sadness they still have in his heart. Morro refuses to become like them.

As he gets up, he hears the sound of a shade near them erupting into violent sobs, and, with a disgusted look, he immediately runs away from them, blowing the remaining wind in this decrepit area towards their direction. He stumbles slightly, but manages to gain his footing as he manages to find the River of Probability. He refuses to look at it, even in the most extreme cases. But, that dream… it was gnawing at him with regret, anger, and outrage. How dare this decrepit Realm believe this is what he would have wanted in his life. After taking a few more moments to ruminate his decision, Morro slowly stares at his reflection in the pond. It takes a moment for it to morph to his appearance in the dream, but it ripples, slowly showing him his reflection in that dream, as if it already knows who he could’ve been; tall, full, human, happy…

He couldn't bear to look at his reflection fully. He just can't deal with it anymore.

Snarling, he splashes the pond with his hand, water rippling as he immediately gets up.

So much for sweet dreams.

[absandersons]

What the Fuck Happened to the SPN Finale?

Okay so here it is, my Charlie Kelly style manifesto.

Before I get into it, I recognize that I will look like this to many of you, and that’s okay, I understand:

Secondly, your personal Takes about the writers don’t interest me, I don’t need to hear them. This, as I’ll explain, is going to remain a writer positive blog, and that’s the end of it.

Third, and most importantly: some of what I’m going to talk about is fact, and some is highly educated speculation. I will notate what is speculation, just so there’s no confusion or hot takes in my inbox that I’m a conspiracy theorist or stirring shit up for no reason.

A list of what I’ll be discussing

The episode in regards to the rest of the season

The episode issues: length, editing

Scene placement and speculation of scenes cut

The scrubbing of Jack, Cas, Eileen

Network involvement and general timeline of when things were cut

Misha: theories on where he was, official company line, why we can’t expect to hear anything directly

The silence of the cast post episode (in Misha’s case, mid episode) and what this might mean

Jensen speaking with Kripke about the ending: why it doesn’t mean what you might think (also why kripke remained positive on the ending)

Walker, and why this episode had a major shift

Why the network would do this or get involved

Why the writers of the show simply aren’t the bad guys here, and what I “want” out of this post, since I know it’ll get asked

This is very long and under a cut, but I hope you’ll give it a read.

The Episode In Regards to the Rest of the Season

So, I’ve discussed this already here, but it’s the most obvious thing to me, and that’s the way this episode simply doesn’t fit with the rest of the season.

These people in this room have, truly, been nothing but consistent when it comes to their arcs, especially this season, and the marked dropoff in quality for the finale episode is just too sus to discount to me.  Dabb’s whole focus has been character-based.  In his seasons, we’ve moved far away from MOTW and bro-codependency, the found family taking it’s place.  Does it really sit right to anyone that that was all thrown away in literally the last episode of the entire show?

This is speculation on my part, but as a writer myself, there is no way I would be happy or willing to stamp my name on something that I didn’t think would, at the very least, wrap up the season+ character arcs that I and my team had been crafting.

And before anyone comes in here saying, “well GOT did that!”  Bruh.  The writing was on the wall for GOT long before the final episode.  You could tell that the showrunners just wanted to be done (not only from the plot, but from the fact that they lobbied for a shorter season).  Miss me with that, it doesn’t apply here.  Andrew has, besides Singer and J2, been with the show longer than anyone.  He cares, he is meticulous and detailed, and this ending feels worse than anything Bucklemming has ever written, let alone Dabb.

Additionally, I’ve seen a lot of people say that Dabb was never behind Destiel, that it was all Bobo and Meredith and no one else.  That is reductive to the point of insult of the work Dabb has done to get this greenlit.  This man did not write the s13 Dean grief arc to be slandered like this.  That being said, YES, Bobo and Meredith were the leads on the DeanCas arc this season, but ANDREW IS THE SHOWRUNNER, TO GET EVEN THE CONFESSION APPROVED BY THE NETWORK HE WOULD HAVE TO HAVE THEIR BACKS.  AND HE DID.

Finale Issues

So, now that we’ve gotten the fact that this episode doesn’t hit on any of the major themes the show was barrelling towards all season, let’s discuss the fact that the episode is just...weird.

Not only is it shorter than any other episode (I think with the intro and the credits/crew thing at the end, it was around 38 mins), but it was also...idk, 90% filler?

One of the lovely humans in the POLOL server did the legwork here, and broke it down:

This is weird, y’all.  Most series finales are LONGER than normal (Lost, SOA, Longmire are the ones I can think of off the top of my head), and for the final episode to be this?  I saw more than one person point out that we only really needed 19 episodes, what was the point of 20?  AND THAT’S EXACTLY IT?  WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THIS FINAL EPISODE IF THIS WAS ALL WE WERE SUPPOSED TO GET?

It simply doesn’t make any sense, the first half of the episode was rushed, a final monster hunt gone wrong, but in the second half?  Nothing really happened?  Sam lived his entire life and Dean just drove around.  It doesn’t make sense to have all the emotional arcs left unaddressed in an episode that definitely needed some kind of spark.

Here’s the speculation I have: the episode seemingly went through a lot of changes between the initial inception of the final season and when we actually got it, but I think it would have been passable (as in, we wouldn’t be sitting here asking each other why each arc feels incomplete) until the editing room got ahold of it.  The only think that makes this episode make sense is network fuckery.  Truly, that is the only thing.  It explains the weird, cuts, the rushed pacing of the first half followed by nothing in the second half, the double montages of “Wayward Son” back to back, and Dean just...driving around for the last half of the episode.

Scene Placement and Speculation of Scenes Cut

Before I get into this section, the info of the shots in the episode I have come from a source that @occamshipper​ got a week or so before the finale.  She’s talked about this here.

So here’s what Min was given:

1-5: 1 INT MEN OF LETTERS – DEAN’S ROOM Dean is greeted by Miracle

6-10: 6 INT MEN OF LETTERS – HALLWAY/SAM’S ROOM Sam has his routine

D1 1 11-15: 15 EXT FARM HOUSE Establishing

N1 1/8 16-20: 19 Dad’s journal, marker, drawing of masked man in journal.

21-25: 23 INT IMPALA – PMP Driver picks the music

N2 1 3/8 1,2 26-30: 28pt2 INT BARN: A face from the past

28pt3 Sam and Dean say goodbye

28pt4 Shot early for technical reasons, presumably the overhead shot

N2 31-45: 41 INT MEN OF LETTERS – SAM’S ROOM Sam’s alarm goes off D4 1/8 1 46-60: 56 INT N7glasses for Sam, laptop.

So...it all fits right?  It all tracks with the actual episode, where it lands, etc.  The issue is between shots 29-40 which were apparently “too big to spoil.”  Uh.  Where are they?  And where’s 28 pt4?

After Dean dies, the next scene is Sam burning him, then shot 31, the shot of his alarm going off.

So.  Where are those 11ish shots?

PLUS we have the boards, which are scenes we KNOW were actually shot:

As well as scenes for 20 that were shot in 19.

It’s just...weird, it’s weird and again hits on the fact that the episode is so short and like 80% montage.

The Scrubbing of Jack, Cas, and Eileen

So now we have to reckon with the fact that Eileen was last mentioned by Sam after she got snapped by Chuck, Jack’s last mention is that he’s off being God somewhere, and Cas’ last mention is a ~knowing look~ between Dean and Bobby.

I’m sorry, make it make sense:

????????  That’s the end if it?  They don’t need to be discussed after this???  It’s just simply not something a writer would do, they would not introduce these characters, these arcs, without thinking there’s going to be some kind of follow through here.

So not only were three major characters (including two leads and both of the original characters’ love interests) completely wiped from the finale episode, it was as though Sam and Dean never even needed them, which just...ain’t it.

So why Eileen and Jack too?  Why not just take Cas out of it if they were afraid of the gay?  Because, ultimately, the episode went back to Kripke’s original story: just the bros, they only need each other and no one else.  They don’t want anyone else, they don’t need anyone else.  Easier to go back to something they knew was successful than trust the writers and their audience and take a big leap.

Alex even said he shot for 20 with “some of the guys” here.  What happened to that footage?

The complete 180 of it all still shocks me, I still cannot believe that we were essentially at the finish line, and the network just stopped short, and decided to go run another race, at the expense of the arc of this fifteen year legacy show.

Network Involvement and When Things Were Cut

Okay, now into the juicy stuff.

So I’ve pretty well established that network fuckery is clear, but how much did they get involved, what was the original intent?

Well again, we may never actually know what Andrew’s original script was, but I think, at the least, it would involve Dean speaking his truth to Cas and Sam living a life with Eileen.

Now, it seems today, that Misha said that Jimmy Novak was supposed to be in the finale in one iteration of the script, and while initially my brain was like “that truly makes no sense and he’s either straight up lying or telling a half truth,” I think what may be happening is Misha talking about as much as he can right now.

So Jimmy right.  Weird as fuck.  Why would he been in the Roadhouse and not Cas?  My current thought (this is about as reachy as I’ll get) is that Jimmy had no lines, could he have been in the Roadhouse as a red herring, like it said “Jimmy” in the script but it was just Cas in human clothes, a way to get around the network saying Cas couldn’t be in the final scene.  Also, you’ll notice that Misha didn’t say that Cas wasn’t supposed to be in the ep at all, just Jimmy in the last scene.

All this to say, there have clearly been multiple versions of the script, getting lighter and lighter with Cas and Eileen as the network pulled further and further back.  Remember, Dabb has to get things approved before they get shot, and if the network kept asking and asking and asking to cut Cas and Eileen, he had to find a way to work around it.  Granted, I still think that if we had been able to get a Dabb script that wasn’t torn to shreds in editing, it wouldn’t be so bad.  It may not be what a lot of us wanted (Dean speaking his truth to Cas and a reciprocation), but doing everything he could to give it to us in subtext or visual clues.

Plus, in all honesty, my man can’t keep his story straight anyway.  He said twice in his panel that the Empty and offscreen Heaven ending weren’t his original ending either.

In addition, remember that Jensen did ADR post episode 18, AND said in a meet and greet last weekend that Dean’s reaction to Cas’ confession was “cut down.” (Source here).  Many of us clowns got excited when we first heard about ADR, because we thought it would be upping the ante on Dean’s reaction, but I remember being a little sus when it was just crying.  My speculation on that is that they cut out Dean actually SAYING something, @winchestersingerautorepair​ spoke about that here.

The biggest sins were, in my opinion, committed during editing, where the network got too gun shy and sliced the episode until it was nothing but a heartless bro-fest of a finale, not mentioning anything about the other major characters that we all love, and letting the boys just suffer in separation until Sam died and finally joined Dean in Heaven.  The editing came by cutting all the major emotional beats between anyone other than Dean and Sam, leaving the skeleton of the story intact, just shorter and less...poignant than it was ever supposed to be.

Misha

We know Misha was in Vancouver, we know he quarantined, but we also know he wasn’t in the final scene, when he spoke about being in the last moment of the show months ago.  We were not crazy, he was there, he quarantined, and, in all likelihood (speculation but fitting with the timeline), he actually may have shot something (not much, but something).

I have sources here, here, here, and here showing where Misha was at that time.

Remember, the man was completely open about coming back until they finished shooting (look at this thread).  The switch happened, just like everything else, halfway through them shooting.

Please also remember Jake Abel posting his “Where’s Misha” video here.  Jake isn’t malicious, he isn’t being nasty here.  Misha was there, and everyone that’s trying to convince people he’s wasn’t just...isn’t telling the truth about it.

This is one of the things that makes me really mad, because they’re literally attempting to gaslight people into thinking, “oh we were totally wrong he was never supposed to be there” WHEN HE WAS THERE, WE KNOW HE WAS THERE.

So we’ve already heard from several people (Meghan Fitzmartin, Jay, a PA on the set of 19 (WHO WAS NOT WORKING FOR 20), Misha himself) that this was all down to Covid restrictions.  Ultimately, as this post says, we’ve heard FIVE versions of where Misha was.  None of it makes sense, but the Covid protocol seems to be the company line that others are repeating.

You may ask: why?  Why lie to all of us when we have questions?  Why, in Jay’s case, say that we’re all spreading false lies to stir up trouble, when we just have questions and things that do not make sense.  Simply?  Warner Brothers is absolutely massive.  These people have their careers to protect and are likely all under NDAs.  They want to work for WB again and don’t want to burn bridges, including Misha.  It sucks, but that’s why it’s unlikely that we’ll hear someone come out and say, “yeah we’re lying to you.”

Silence of the Cast Post Episode

So this is...probably the worst part of all this, at least in my opinion.

The guys had all been pretty excited about the end of the show (especially Jared, but Jensen’s panel last week was Jensen as happy and jokey and positive as I’ve ever seen him.  He was so excited about episode 18, about what it meant for Dean and for Cas, and I just cannot buy that he would have been that excited unless he thought there was something more in the episode.

Misha live-tweeted the episode, and was watching it with his kids.  It’s well known that Misha and the kids don’t watch the show because it’s too scary, and let’s ask ourselves, why would he have them watch an episode that he’s barely even mentioned in?

He also stopped live-tweeting at a very specific point in the episode (Dean’s death) and has not mentioned Supernatural since then. 

None of them, not Jared, Jensen, Misha, or even Alex, said anything about the episode for nearly 36 hours, when Jensen posted a salty photo on instagram.  It’s just...not what you’d expect for the end of a 15 year show, when the cast and crew are so close to the fans, so close to each other. 

My theory?  They didn’t know.  They thought Misha was, at least, going to be in the episode in some way, and when he wasn’t, they decided not to say anything.

You really think that Jensen “Heller” Ackles would have been so excited about the end of the show last week if he thought Cas wasn’t going to be in it at all?  Nah son, doesn’t make any sense.

Even today, in Jared and Misha’s panels, they seemed sad and...more than a little careful, both saying that there were things they couldn’t say, both talking around things that we all have questions on.

Jensen Speaking with Kripke

So this is where a lot of people are getting fodder to take shots at the writers, saying that Jensen hated it from the beginning, but I don’t think so.  I actually think I know what Jensen went to him about, and it wasn’t the lack of Cas or the weird pacing or the montages (which I don’t think were there when Jensen got the script); I think it was the manner of Dean’s death.

I know a lot of people were upset about that, upset with how...normal it was, coming off an episode where they literally beat God.  I actually didn’t mind it, I thought it was an interesting thematic take to be like: you can be a hero all your life, but sometimes shit happens, and you just die.

But imagine how hard that was for Jensen to read.  He would run to Kripke for that, because for him, Dean dying by being impaled by a piece of rebar had to be tough to swallow.

So, why didn’t Kripke say that?  Why didn’t he say, “oh well he had a problem with Dean’s death, none of that other stuff was in the script.”

Guys.  Why would he get involved?  He’s not going to burn bridges any more than anyone else is.  He said the ending was good because it’s the easy thing to do, it’s simple, will cause him no problems in his career, and he can just ignore the people trying to engage with him on it.

Walker

Something else to talk about is the major shift this episode had from the rest of the season: the shift from Dean to Sam.  I am NOT saying that Sam isn’t important, he definitely, absolutely is, but it was DEAN who really needed to wrap up his arc, Sam just needed to move on, get married to Eileen, become the leader he was always meant to.  So what changed?  What was with the shirtless scene, the Austin number and random case there, most of the episode being heavily Sam focused, going through his entire life in a montage?

Anyone else notice the 375 Walker promos, or Jared’s little spiel about Walker and how he hoped SPN fans would “come along for the ride.”

It’s...kinda obvious?  CW wanted to appeal to who they think the key demographic of SPN and Walker is: rural areas in the South.  It would explain a lot, why so much editing, why so Sam focused, the Austin number, the number of Walker promos, all of it.

I’m not saying this is fact, I don’t know that it is, but it is a little suspicious that even in Jared’s panel today, he talked A LOT about Walker and how he hopes SPN fans will watch it.

Why Would the Network Get Involved?

Simply put: $$$

If they think Walker can be the new SPN, and that those crazy SPN fans liked it originally, it’s a lot safer to go with the “original intent” of the show than do something risky (like making one of your two original leads queer).

And?  They don’t care.  They don’t care that the episode didn’t make sense, they don’t care that all the emotional arcs were left hanging, they don’t care by (potentially) smashing together two of Dean’s monologues (one to Sam, one to Cas) that it came of as...gross. ( @curioussubjects​ wrote a beautiful post showing how part of that death speech was likely meant for Dean here).  They don’t care, they never have, they just want to make their money and move on from the too-loud fandom that fought for representation too hard for too long.

It can’t help but feel insidious, which, honestly, it might be, but it really all comes down to the next cash cow, which, they think, is Walker, even at the cost of the fifteen year legacy show.

The Writers and What I Want

So here it is, all this weird, sus shit laid out on the line.  And you know what?  To me, there is no way to blame the writers, because they didn’t want this.

I don’t think Dabb and Bobo would have gone ahead with the confession in 18 without thinking that there would be some closure to that arc, they wouldn’t have done that not only to the fans, but for the sake of their own story as well: no writer wants to start something that they can’t finish. (And this applies to both Cas and Eileen).

Here’s a basic rundown of what I think happened: they had a clear arc from 18-20, ending in reciprocation at some level from Dean, Sam marrying Eileen, Hunter Sam as the new Bobby, Dean in heaven with Cas and big roadhouse reunion at the end. Covid prevented a good amount of that. Network had to stare at big gay 18 for six months, got cold feet. Thought about Walker, target audience and alienation of the rural areas if it went full gay. Misha quarantined and likely shot something (not much), he was then cut by execs and went home. They likely added in lines referencing Eileen and Cas to make it clear but more subtextual. They wrap, editing gets it and hacks it to pieces, so we get a shorter episode that’s mostly montages and jarringly bro-centric with nothing else. Arcs are left hanging. Dabb gets episode but it’s too late, there’s nothing he can do. Actors aren’t told so they can continue to do positive PR for the ending, they all found out at the same time we did: hence almost complete silence about the finale.

And you know what?  They warned us.  I talked about it here, but they’ve been telling us all season that Chuck wasn’t the writer, he’s the network.  I don’t think, still, that they thought it would be cut up like this, into something so unsalvageable that it’s been panned by almost everyone, even people who didn’t care much about Dean and Cas.

Finally, a masterpiece can be ruined by editing, and while I’m not sure even the script they ended up shooting on was a masterpiece (due to the network meddling already), but to me it’s blatantly obvious that it’s no one but the network that caused this, that took away closure for Dean, Cas, and even Sam.

So what do I want?  Nothing really, there’s nothing we can do, but I wrote this mostly to show people that the writers are not your enemy.   In fact, to the people trashing them?  You’re doing exactly what the CW wants you to: blame the obvious targets, blame Misha, blame Jensen and Jared, blame Dabb.  Scream and yell at them on Twitter and about how the show is ruined because of them.  The network keeps their engagement levels high, they don’t get as targeted for their behavior, and just keep moving along.

Just, please, think about who did this,  Mourn the show, be angry, but not at the people who fought tooth and nail for this for literal years, not the people who wanted it more than we did, not the people who cannot say anything because of their careers and the NDAs they’re bound by.

Someone is going to spill eventually, but until then, we just have to wait, and continue to be loud.

[maschotch]

i think the friction between emily and the rest of the team when she first joins is why she becomes such an essential member in season three and i think thats part of what makes her so so interesting. the team had been established in season one. elle slipped in so easily and we didn’t get to see how she changed the dynamic since she joined the first episode. it’s not just that they didn’t know emily in season two: it’s that they hated her. 

“hate” is maybe a little strong, but they were definitely wary of her early on. she was an easy target to lay into when they’re having a bad day. they were quick to take their frustrations out on her and she just had to accept it. she took it in stride, willing to take the brunt of their anger partly because everyone was struggling in one way or another this season and partly because she was dedicated to being part of the team.

we don’t know a lot about her experiences at interpol, but we know it was brutal, emotionally grueling, and even more dangerous than her job at the fbi. the bau is a relaxing change of pace compared to what she left, and we know it’s something she specifically wanted. she knew what she wanted to do—how she wanted to use her skills—and picked a less stressful yet still exciting job as a profiler. she wanted this position. she fought for it. she’s not about to back down anytime soon.

she’d worked for so long and put him with so much of their bullshit before finally beginning to feel like she had a place on the team. but when strauss put the pressure on to help her take down hotch, she quit. just like that. even after all the shit she’d gone through to establish her place, she gave it all up so she didn’t have to be part of hotch’s downfall.

a lot of it obviously stems from her strict aversion to politics. from what we know of ambassador prentiss, we can guess it probably wasn’t easy for emily to break away from that world and live her own life. she chose this work because she didn’t want to have to worry about the deceitful political game. (which is interesting that she chose to work undercover and utilized the same skills she would have as a politician: lies, manipulation, constantly needed to watch your back, never being able to trust someone 100% but that’s a different topic entirely. not to mention how she did have to spent this first year trying to establish trust while lying through her smile to keep the secrets of her past hidden) the bau she’d hoped would be a place she could just catch killers and move on to the next without dealing with the messiness of constantly working to push someone’s agenda. for the first time, she could just be… emily. 

but what really highlights the dramatic shift in the group is her confidence in hotch as a leader. even if she’d wanted to play strauss’s game to remain in the bau, she firmly believes the team would suffer more without hotch. he’s been abrasive and hostile since day one. sure he’s mellowed throughout the season, but he never gave her a reason to think he wanted her there. and she respects his abilities and the care he has for the team anyway, even if she never thought he considered her a part of it. she’s given up on being accepted and was ready to wipe the slate clean and start again.

which is why the conversation at her apartment is so so important. this is the first time that he’s expressed what a significant part of the team she’s become. honestly it may not have been until she gave him her badge and gun that he realized it himself. it was hotch—stoic leader, ultimately caring but still distant, rarely verbalizing his true emotions—directly telling her that he wanted her to come back. they all wanted her to come back. because even when they hit bumps in the road, dealt with struggles, and coped with losses, they still had each other. and that was always enough to pick them back up again.

the dynamic between hotch and emily still unique and distinct from the rest of the team. each member so far has been nurtured and reinforced by hotch as they developed into the profilers they are now. even morgan, who’s been with him the longest. but it had always been in a subordinate position. emily was already an experienced profiler in her own right when she joined the team, and their initial conflicts set them against each other. but what truly distinguished her from the rest was her

she had the opportunity to further her career and pursue her ambitions, but she threw it all away to protect him. to protect the team. something that hotch had been accustomed to defending all on his own. it would’ve been so easy to betray him—and he honestly might not’ve have blamed her for it. he’d been cold and distant, but she showed him unwavering loyalty despite that, even if it meant ending her career. his recognition of the lengths she would go to to defend them was what won him over completely, solidifying the bonds of the team. of which she was an integral member.

this momentous expression of trust, loyalty, and dedication despite everything that happened between them cemented their relationship, not necessarily as leader and subordinate, but as equals. the foundation of their relationship was based on mutual respect and their unshakable devotion to the team as a whole: they were well aware of the lengths the other would go to. the burden of supporting the entire team was lessened now that she was here and able to be another solid pillar for the others to depend on. and, perhaps for the first time, they each found someone they could trust completely.