#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. 

[swimmingismywholelife]

The Only Reason

Summary: Even though your relationship with Christian has been rocky, neither of you are willing to go down without a fight.

Warnings: 18+, arguments, panic attack, a lot of crying, angst but a fluffy (if you can call it that I guess) ending, SMUT, some dirty talk, soft dom!Chris, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it and make sure you're not allergic to your wrap!), fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, the smut is sweet tbh

WC: 4.4K

A/N: It's my birthday but this is a present for all of you! Inspired by "The Only Reason" by 5 Seconds of Summer. My first attempt at smut which lowkey I wasn't supposed to add but it fit anyway. This is a step considering I'm openly horny on main now so you might see more in the future 👀. I literally changed it 1274045923845 times but I'm happy with the way it turned out so I hope you guys think it's good-

"Even though my dizzy head is numb

I swear my heart is never giving up.

You're the reason

The only reason."

~~~

The front door slammed shut, indicating Christian was finally home from training. You sighed, praying this would blow over quickly so you could enjoy your dinner.

The past few weeks had been incredibly frustrating for the both of you. Chelsea had been on a losing streak with hardly any goals and Christian hardly got any play time. He was in the middle of trying to negotiate some sort of deal with the club, either to transfer or give him more playing time. Although it wasn't the option he preferred, it was likely he'd be transferred somewhere else soon, and with that contract talks had to be opened. He loved Chelsea, but the club didn't seem to return that love to him. It heavily weighed on Christian's mind, slowly draining him of the love he had for the sport, sending him deeper into a depressive and angry spiral causing him lash out on everyone.

On top of that, your own stresses had started building up. Your workload had tripled due to you being short staffed. Every time you thought you were done with a project, a modification was added or a brand new one was added to your list of things to do. You were working overtime almost every single day and you were close to ripping your hair out.

Between your work and Christian's training, you'd hardly seen each other over the past few months. He'd been extra short with you recently, something that was pretty unusual for Christian. You were typically the one who struggled to keep your anger in check, but these days it seemed your boyfriend could give you a run for your money. Most days you spent sleeping away from each other as opposed to being cuddled in each others arms. During the very brief moments you did end up spending time together, more often than not it resulted in some kind of an argument.

You both agreed earlier that morning that you were in desperate need of some kind of date night to ease your minds and to spend time together. You decided that a simple dinner would be sufficient enough. It was something small, you wouldn't have to go anywhere, and it was always one of your favorite date ideas since you'd gotten together. You were excited to finally spend time with your boyfriend even if it wasn't anything fancy.

But you knew by the way Christian slammed the door that he thought otherwise. He angrily threw his training bag to the side, grumbling to himself.

"Chris, it doesn't do you any good to pace angrily around the house," you sighed. "At least come eat and try to take your mind off things."

It seemed you only made him angrier.

"God, what don't you get?!" he snapped back. "Fucking food isn't gonna help the situation. Our team is shit, this situation is shit, everything is shit!"

You stood up from your place at the table, upset with Christian for yelling at you when you just wanted to help.

"I understand you're frustrated with everything, but don't take it out on me!" you yelled back. "All I'm trying to do is help you. I'm not a fucking emotional punching bag for you to take your shit out on Christian!"

He slammed his hands on the table, the sound echoing throughout the entire house. It startled you. Christian wasn't one to express his anger through violence like this.

"Why do I even keep fucking trying with you?! All you do is nag and nag and nag! You keep 'trying to help' but you're not!" he screamed back. "All you do is get in my face of 'oh Christian do this,' 'oh Christian try and do that.' Get out of my face for once I'm fucking tired of it!"

You were stunned. Your heart with each word Christian spat out at you. You loved him, but you knew you didn't deserve what he'd been giving you for the past few months.

"Fine. I'll 'get out of your face,'" you said calmly.

"Actually you know what? I'll do it myself. Being in here suffocates me," he said venomously, grabbing his keys and storming out the house.

You moved into the bedroom the two of you shared. What once felt like home to you felt like a prison suffocating you the longer you stood in it. And you just fell to your knees and cried.

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment where it all started going wrong. You and Christian weren't perfect of course, but you just worked. You understood each other like no one else. You'd experienced things together that you'd never had with other people. You hadn't grown up with Christian in the past, but that didn't matter. He was your present and was going to be your future.

But that was then. Somewhere along the way, things changed. Nowadays he barely made time for you. He was gone before you woke up and you were asleep before he came home. Date nights were nonexistent, special occasions stopped being special. You couldn't keep begging for his attention, wondering if this time would be enough to keep it.

You didn't want things to end. That was absolutely the last thing you wanted to do. You loved Christian with everything you had. But you were the only one trying and you both knew that. Somewhere Christian just fell out of love with you while you were desperately trying to grasp onto something. But it was no use. He was gone a long time ago.

Christian was in the middle of figuring out the trajectory of his career, unsure if he was to wait out his contract with Chelsea for the next season or leave for a club that truly appreciated him. And pretty soon, he would be flying back to the States for international break. The last thing you wanted to do was add onto the stress Christian was feeling.

But how long would you have to keep sacrificing your own happiness for the sake of his?

Christian didn't come home that night, nor the night after that, nor the night after that. Not that you really expected him to. He hadn't been home all that much anyway, and even while he was there physically, he wasn't there. So sleeping alone in your bed wasn't that much of a foreign feeling anymore anyway. And the longer he was away, the foggier your mind became. The answer was right there in front of you. This was Christian blatantly telling you how he felt about your relationship. Right?

It wasn't until about a week later that Christian had contacted you, letting you know he'd be coming back that night. You mentally prepared yourself for the worst.

The door opened, causing you to snap out of your thoughts. You could hear the clattering of the keys being placed on the table and footsteps heading up the stairs.

The lights flickered in your bedroom. Your eyes met his, startling him.

"Oh hey, I didn't realize you'd still be up," Christian said surprised, removing his jacket and placing it on a chair.

"We need to talk Christian," you said, trying to prevent your voice from wavering.

"We'll talk in the morning, Y/N. It's kind of late and I don't want another fight right now," he responded.

"I'm serious Christian," you answered, feeling your heart breaking already. "And I don't think this can wait until morning."

"Why do you keep using my full name?" Christian asked uncomfortably. "You only use it like this when something's really wrong."

You didn't answer. Instead you got up from your place on the bed and hugged his waist, completely breaking down. You felt like you couldn't breathe through all the tears and the pain you felt. Your body gave out as you fell to the ground, taking Christian with you.

For a second time that night, Christian was surprised. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, kissing your head.

"Hey, hey, baby what's wrong? What's going on?" he asked.

You couldn't get the words out. You only cried harder as he led you back to your bed. You took in this moment with him, not knowing if this was the last night you would sharing with him. You tried to memorize the scent of his favorite cologne, how perfectly you fit into his arms, the way his kisses felt. You wanted to remember how safe you felt with Christian and how your heart longed for him to come home to you.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay. I'm right here. I won't ever let anything hurt you," he said, trying to soothe you.

Little did he realize he was the reason you were hurting so much.

You held Christian close to you as the weight of your decision started to kick in. You wanted nothing more in this world than to be with Christian. He meant everything to you. You wanted it all with him. You wanted to marry him one day, carry his children, grow old together. You wanted to wear his last name to every game he played, to support him as he reached all his dreams. You could have nothing but Christian and you would be perfectly content.

Your mother had told you growing up that every scenario that came your way had three answers: yes, no, or wait. And you so desperately wanted to believe Christian was your sign that being patient was worth it. That waiting would be worth it. That one day it would bring you the happiness you craved and you deserved.

But how long were you supposed to wait? How long had you waited for him to fulfill his promises? How long had you been patient with him? How long had you stayed loyal every time he'd taken his anger out on you? How long had you been contemplating if you were worth saving? Was this just patience or were you holding onto something that you should've let go of a long time ago?

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier baby," he said, stroking your hair trying to soothe you. "I didn't mean it. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry."

You couldn't get words out. You needed just one last night to call yourself his before you could make your final decision.

"Just hold me please," you sobbed out, gripping his body as hard as you could.

"I'll do whatever you need baby. I'm right here. I'll always be right here."

Christian was scared. He didn't fully understand what was going on or why you were crying the way you were. But he knew something was off and something was wrong. So he just held you as you let out all the emotions you'd been feeling for weeks.

Christian knew it was more serious than he initially thought when you kept crying for over an hour. He didn't realize how absent he'd been from your life until then. How long had you been feeling such emotional turmoil? What else had he missed? Why were you crying this hard for so long?

Truthfully, he was afraid to find out. As shitty of a boyfriend he'd been over the past few weeks, Christian loved you with every fiber of his being. The last thing he wanted to do was lose you, the relationship you'd built up for years together.

But he knew the likelihood of a break up was probably looming in your mind. Was this it? Was this a sign that something was coming to an end? He didn't want to know. He knew you two needed to talk, especially after the way he walked out. But he was afraid of the outcome.

So he just held you close to him, praying this wouldn't be the last time he got to feel you like this. He took in your scent, trying to memorize the way you felt in his arms. He left kisses on your forehead, shoulders, and cheeks, wiping the tears away as he went.

You eventually calmed down, your grip on Christian never loosening.

"Christian I-" you gasped out.

"It's okay baby, take your time. You don't have to rush anything you don't want to," he whispered gently, kissing your forehead again.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly.

"Baby, you have nothing to be sorry about," he said. "If anything, I should be the one who's sorry. I've been such a horrible boyfriend. I shouldn't have said what I said, I shouldn't have done what I did."

"Christian…" you trailed.

"Shh, it's okay baby. It's okay. We don't have to talk about this right now. We can talk about this in the morning. Just let me hold you right now. Everything is going to be okay," he said softly.

"Chris I'm scared," you whispered.

His heart broke a little knowing you were scared of what morning would entail.

"I'm scared too baby. I'm so fucking scared," he admitted. "But we'll talk about this when it comes okay? Just be here with me now. Nothing else is going to hurt you tonight I promise."

The two of you were laying on your side facing each other. Your head was tucked into his chest, tears flowing every so often. Christian never once let go, not even when his arms started going numb. You were afraid to close your eyes, scared that Christian would be gone the moment you opened them.

Your body stopped shaking and you eventually stopped crying during the early morning hours. You were quiet. And if he didn't know you well, Christian would've believed you were asleep.

But he knew better. He knew that you couldn't sleep because neither could he. Just two souls barely hanging on by a thread not knowing how to fix it.

Did you want to fix things? Or were things so far gone there was nothing you could do anymore? Was this still worth it? Was a future still possible? Would love be enough to save this?

You were set on breaking up with him the night before. You were so sure that's what you wanted. But under the moonlight that peaked through your window, you didn't know what to do anymore. Your head was dizzy with thoughts and you couldn't think clearly anymore.

"Christian?" you called out quietly.

"Yeah?"

"What are we doing?"

His body tensed at the question. He was quiet at first, not wanting to say the wrong thing. He knew this was it. His answer would either make or break your relationship.

"I don't know baby," he answered honestly.

You nestled your head further into his chest.

"I don't want to keep doing this. Guessing if you still want us. You're either in or you're out Chris. I don't want to keep playing your games."

Christian had to stop himself from letting out a sob and took a deep breath. You didn't trust him or his words anymore. And realizing that absolutely broke his heart.

"Can you look at me Y/N?" he asked.

You hesitated for a moment before lifting your head. Christian cupped your cheek with his hand, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth. He rested his forehead on yours.

"You don't have to say anything okay? Just hear me out. I know I've been a shitty boyfriend. I know I haven't been there for you. I haven't treated you well. I've lashed out on you when you've done nothing but love and support me. Through all the shit the world's thrown at me this season, you've been everything I need and more. And I haven't appreciated that. And you deserve so much more than what I've been giving you."

Christian stopped for a moment, taking the opportunity to look at you. How could he have hurt you so bad? How could he let everything slip between his fingers?

"I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I'm sorry that you've lost trust in my words. You always tell me that my words, my actions, and my intentions need to line up and they haven't been and I'm so sorry for that. I'm sorry I've broken so many promises. And most of all, I'm sorry that you're hurting and I'm the cause of it when I told you I'd never let anyone hurt you. I failed to see what was right in front of me and I've taken you for granted and I'm so sorry."

A tear fell from your eye, quickly caught by Christian's thumb.

"I don't deserve you. I really don't. You know that and I know that better than anyone."

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead further into yours.

"But please don't give up on us. I know you can't trust my words right now, but I swear to you I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I can't let you go. Not now and not ever. No more games. No more confusion. No more trying to guess where my head and where my heart stand with you. Right here, right now, forever and always I'm with you. My head is with you. My heart is with you. All of me is with you. And I promise I'll prove it every day for as long as I live. So please. Give me one last chance to be with you."

You didn't know what to say. You didn't know what you wanted anymore. How could you trust him? He was saying all the right words, but did he really mean it? Were they more empty words?

Yes, no, or wait. Just like your mother said. But you'd waited so long that it seemed almost futile. Had you been wasting your time? Or was this what you were meant to do?

And though your head was fighting with itself, dizzy and numb from the constant questions running around, you knew where your heart lied. So you did the only thing you felt could portray how you felt enough to give him and answer.

You lifted your chin and kissed him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck. His grip on your cheek was firm, bringing you as close as you could physically get. The tears wouldn't stop flowing from either of your faces, but none of that mattered. What mattered was here and now.

Yes, no, or wait. And you finally got your answer.

He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. And truthfully, he needed you to breathe.

You pulled back ever so slightly, just enough for you to be able to talk.

"You get one chance at this Chris. Only one," you said breathlessly. "Don't waste it."

His lips were back on yours in response, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip. You let out a soft moan as he pushed you onto your back, settling himself in between your legs. He pulled back keeping his forehead to yours breathing heavily.

"I love you Y/N. I love you so much you don't even know," he said. "I won't waste it. Not ever again."

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him back to your lips, needing to feel him closer. Your hands traveled underneath his shirt, nails scratching his skin lightly as they roamed his chest.

Christian pulled back from you for a moment to rip his shirt off before attaching his lips back to yours, giving you more access to him. You couldn't keep your hands off each other, your legs wrapping around his hips to bring you even closer to him.

"Chris," you whispered. "I need-"

"I know baby," he answered. "I know. Let me take care of you."

You whimpered beneath him as his lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of marks as he gave you sloppy but gentle kisses. He bit down on the spot just below your ear, causing you to let out a loud moan.

"Does that feel good baby?" he whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine that resonated throughout your whole body.

"God yes Chris it feels so good please," you begged beneath him.

His hands grabbed the bottom of your shirt, bringing it over your head and pressing his chest against yours as he kissed your lips gently.

"So fucking beautiful. And all mine," he said to himself.

His lips returned to your neck, this time the trail leading to your breasts. You gasped as you felt his tongue along your nipple, pressing yourself further into his mouth. You only squirmed more as he moved to your other side, your fingers tangled in his hair tugging lightly. He kissed down your torso until he reached the band of your shorts.

"May I?" he asked softly.

You nodded your head frantically.

"Words baby." His fingers hooked into them, toying with the fabric. "You know the drill. I can't give you what you want unless you tell me."

"Yes please," you whined, wiggling your hips in the hopes of getting the clothing off you faster.

"Please what Y/N?"

"Please take them off Chris please. I wanna feel you on my pussy please, please, please."

"Good girl."

He slowly slid your shorts down, taking a little too long for your liking. He kissed down your stomach, loving how you were falling apart beneath him.

His fingers rubbed over the dark spot of your underwear. You gasped, hands grabbing the sheets tightly. He moved his fingers almost in a trance watching as the patch grew darker and larger.

"You're so fucking wet baby. You like it when I touch you like this?" he chuckled.

"Yes I love feeling you play with my pussy!" you moaned, grinding your hips against his fingers.

Christian pulled your underwear to the side. You shivered in anticipation as you felt Christian's breath on your lips.

"Can I taste you?" he asked, running his fingers through your folds.

"God yes! Please let me feel your tongue," you begged, lacing your fingers through his hair to bring him closer.

"As you wish princess."

Your back arched the moment his tongue made contact with you. He licked from the bottom all the way to your clit, lightly sucking on it. You moaned tugging at his curls. The louder you moaned, the faster he went alternating between licking and sucking. Your thighs closed around his head as you pushed him closer to you.

You were so lost in the pleasure that you were surprised when Christian inserted two of his fingers into your folds. You moaned even louder at the intrusion.

"God Christian more please. Please I need more!"

You were begging, but you didn't even know what you were begging for. You just wanted him to keep going.

Christian was enjoying every second of this. He loved watching you fall apart beneath him.

"You need more baby? So greedy. My tongue sucking on your clit and my fingers deep inside your pussy. What else could you want?" he teased, picking up the speed as he fucked you with his fingers.

You couldn't form any proper sentences anymore. Incoherent noises left your mouth as your body started shaking uncontrollably, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Damn baby you're shaking. Are you close already? I've barely even done anything," he mused, inserting a third finger and fucking you even faster.

"God I'm so fucking close please let me cum! Please please please I need to cum please Christian please!" you all but screamed.

"Shh, it's okay. You can cum baby. Let it go for me," he said softly.

Your vision went blank as you came, your hands grasping at Christian's curls to anchor you to reality. Your legs shook violently as Christian continued coaxing your climax out of you, only slowing down as your body started spasming with overstimulation.

"Christian I need more," you whined, gasping for air.

"I know baby, I know. I'll take good care of you," he said. "I'm right here okay?"

Christian kissed your lips gently, making your heart flutter. He softly caressed your face admiring how you glowed under the moonlight. You melted under his gaze holding him close to you.

"You okay?" he asked.

You nodded, giving him the go ahead. He moved back just enough to remove his bottoms before taking his place between your legs again. He placed both of his hands gently on your cheeks, resting his forehead against yours. He looked deep into your eyes as his thrusted his hips into yours. You gasped into his mouth as he picked up the speed, grinding slow but deep.

"I love you Christian," you moaned breathlessly.

"I love you Y/N," he responded. "I love you so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I'm sorry I made you feel otherwise. And I'll spend the rest of my life proving my worth to you."

The room was quiet except for the skin slapping against each other and the soft gasps you let out. You grabbed Christian's neck, bringing him as close as you possibly could. You needed him in every sense of the word, wanting to feel every inch of his skin on yours. He was yours and you were his. Your bodies intertwined in the same way your souls had all those years ago and that was all you really needed.

"Chris I need-" you were cut off with a particularly deep thrust making you moan, tugging at the curls on the nape of Christian's neck.

"I'm close too baby. Cum with me. Become one with me Y/N."

You had one of the strongest orgasms you'd ever had in your life. Your chest pressed into his as his cum filled you up, clenching your pussy around him. You held each other tightly, afraid to lose one another as space came between you.

The both of you laid there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of being so intimate. You gasped into each others mouths as your heartrates began to slow down ever so slightly.

"God you're so beautiful. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Christian said in awe of you.

You flushed beneath him becoming shy.

"Babe you just came all over my dick. You really shouldn't be that shy," he said cheekily. You scoffed and hit his chest slightly.

"You're actually ridiculous," you said lovingly, pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss.

He pecked you once more before pulling out of you. He got up, grabbing a towel and gently cleaning your body. He left kisses as he went, worshipping your body. Once he was done, he laid on his back bringing your head onto his chest. He kissed the top of your head as you tucked yourself beneath his arm.

"Are we okay Christian?" you asked meekly.

"Yeah baby. We're okay. We're gonna be okay."

Taglist: @pulisicsgirl @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @masonspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @lovelynikol16 @bracedes @mortirolo @nyctophilic0vitnir

[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

[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

[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.

[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.

[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.

[sortasirius]

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.

[bestiesenpai]

Area 51 - Nanami Kento

This is for @natsuonii’s creature feature collab! :) It’s got alien!reader, scientist Nanami and a whole lot of weird shit I’d say. Femme reader...there’s alien pussy lol 9.8K words

link to the collab!

Content warnings: sex pollen, alien heat, reverse knot, daddy kink, blood + needle(it’s brief I promise) and random medical terms and fake science shit lol don’t look too deeply at it

“This...this is the best scientific breakthrough we’ve ever had.” Nanami was at a loss for words, watching as decked out military men brought in case after case of wreckage from a shot down spacecraft. Working at a highly secure government facility sure did have it’s perks, and being one of the first people to know about all this was certainly the biggest one.

Nanami had spent so much of his life studying and clawing his way to the job he was at now. He’d sacrificed so much in the name of science, in the pursuit of finding extraterrestrial life forms no matter how small and insignificant, and it was finally paying off.

“Doctor, we’ll take the embryos to your lab.” One of the men said, quickly walking away tailed by people holding glowing blue cases. He hadn’t really been briefed on what all was coming in and what exactly happened to get it here, but he was sure he would find out soon enough.

“Careful!” Another person shouted and he was pushed out of the way. Coming in through the large steel doors was what looked like a four armed monster strapped face down to a flatbed. Markings went up and down his face and body and there were an extra set of eyes staring at everyone as it was wheeled by.

“What is that creature?” Nanami mumbled, clutching his clipboard tightly. The creature was breathing hard through its nose, nostrils flaring dangerously wide and a light growl rumbled from its chest.

“It appears to be the leader of the spacecraft, we could only get the creature's name, nothing else: Sukuna.” Someone answered him, but Nanami didn’t acknowledge, he was unable to take his eyes off Sukuna.

“Incredible.” His mouth hung open like a fool, unblinking as he watched Sukuna be wheeled past him and to the elevator shaft. “How far down are they taking him?”

“I heard the chief say as far as they could. He’s highly dangerous, it was a miracle the team was able to get the upper hand.”

“I’ll have to pay him a visit soon.” Nanami had enough security clearance to go anywhere in the building, but something was telling him he’d have to ask for a lot of permissions first before making contact with Sukuna. Nanami learned quite early on that the deeper underground you went, the more power you needed to be there.

Once the final bits and pieces were brought into the facility, Nanami peeled himself off the wall and made the way to his own lab. With his badge hung proudly from his shirt pocket, Nanami made the descent and as the elevator went floor after floor and the numbers got higher and higher, he let some excited exhales out.

Going down the metal corridor, he came to his lab to see it teeming with people. Nanami often worked alone on things and to see so many people milling about in his space made him a little nervous.

“Tell me about the embryos.” Was the first thing he said when he entered, donning the white lab coat he’d left hanging by the door. Walking over to the giant test tubes lining the back wall, he peered into one of the open cases.

Nestled inside atop a pile of hay were glowing blue orbs, some too bright to look at directly. They had a light blue smoke coming off, gradually spilling out the sides of the case and if he looked hard enough Nanami could just barely see the outline of a creature inside.

“They were on the spaceship Sukuna came in on. He was hellbent on protecting them, killing five of our people right off the bat.” The military man he’d spoken to earlier was here, answering right away.

“Were they in a case like this?” Donning a pair of gloves, Nanami picked one up. It was cool to the touch and quite heavy, making the muscles in his arm work harder than expected to stay upright.

“No, he had them suspended in some type of thick goop, like clear maple syrup.”

“How scientific, thank you.” He snorted, setting the embryo back down. “Do you have any of this ‘goop’ left?”

“Only this, sir.” Holding up a capped beaker filled halfway with the fluid, the man let out a defeated sigh. “Sukuna actually swallowed most of it, I guess trying to keep the embryos from us any way possible. This stuff is crazy acidic though, it’s melted almost everything it comes in contact with.”

“This should be enough…” Already making calculations in his head, Nanami took the beaker and walked to the control panel of the test tubes. “Load up the embryos and I’ll try to mimic the solution they were in. In the meantime, I’ll put one in that should be similar enough to keep them alive for a while.”

Pressing a few buttons on the panel, the test tubes began to fill with a murky pink liquid, filling the air with a pungent aroma. The embryos were loaded in quickly and the tubes sealed off. Watching them as he walked over to a table full of supplies, Nanami grinned slightly at watching them float.

It took him little time to come up with the properties of the amniotic fluid the embryos had been in. Making slight adjustments to the formula, he watched the liquid go from murky to clear, with only a light pink tinge left.

As the days wore on, Nanami studied the embryos intensely, opting to sleep in his lab instead of the barracks provided so he wouldn’t miss a single change should any occur. Going days without sleep, a week went by without any significant change.

A soft tapping on glass roused Nanami from an impromptu nap. Drawing his head up from where it was nestled in his arms on the metal table he was slumped over, he rubbed his face roughly and looked around.

“Who is it?” He called, assuming it was someone at the door. But when no answer came and the door wasn’t opened, he fully sat up and looked around. “Where the hell-” Cutting himself off as he looked at the test tubes, Nanami almost fell out of his stool.

In the seven test tubes lining the wall, there were three embryos that had come to term. He knew some would fail, resigning himself to the possibility that all of them would, but to see three newborn aliens was beyond his wildest expectations.

“Oh my god.” Snatching his clipboard off the table, Nanami rushed to the test tubes. He was writing furiously, capturing every single detail he saw about them and even making quick sketches of what they looked like.

There were little nubs right above their behinds, what looked to be the beginnings of a tail. All of them had two sets of eyes, unopened and tiny on their infantile faces, faces that were beginning to bear the same marks Sukuna had.

The tapping on the glass, Nanami quickly found out, was from them floating freely in the tubes, softly knocking against the glass as they hung suspended in the fluid. Nanami couldn’t see any kind of umbilical cord or method to get them the possible nutrients they needed to stay alive. So he just had to hope that they woke up soon to tell him what they needed.

The babies rapidly took shape after coming to term, morphing into a human-like form right before Nanami’s eyes. It seemed that with every couple of hours that passed they grew more and more. Fingers, webbed toes, tufts of hair and tails all appeared.

“So when do you think they’ll be able to come out?” His supervisor asked, nearly a month after the first encounter. The aliens under Nanami’s care looked like full fledged adults, ones that you could see out in public and - despite a few glaring differences - not pay any mind to.

“I don’t know, ma’am. I don’t know if they can survive out here.” In the month that passed, the facility wasn’t able to get any intel from Sukuna about the embryos or why he chose to come to Earth. All he did was snarl and growl, slurring a few death threats when he could.

“Take one out and see.”

“What?” Gasping loudly, Nanami’s eyes went wide. Surely his boss didn’t mean for him to sacrifice one of them? They were too precious of an asset to possibly let die like that and Nanami was ready to put his foot down.

“Don’t worry, doctor, Sukuna’s told us a bunch of times that more of his people will be coming, and I’m willing to bet they’ll have more embryos for us to study.” Giving him a swift pat on the back, his boss turned on her heel and started to walk away. “The usual assistants will be here to help you should you need anything and don’t feel bad if they all die, that’s just how these things go.”

The parting words were less than heartwarming. Letting out a rough sigh, Nanami turned to the team of people behind him. They worked with him before, most of them idolizing him with a gleam in their eyes.

“We’ll wheel in the examining table and take them out one by one. If there’s any adverse reactions, I’m sure we’ll be able to handle it. Get the usual supplies ready, we’ll start in ten.” Giving the group a curt nod, Nanami turned back to the test tubes. Pressing his hand onto the glass of one, he closed his eyes. “God, I really hope you all don’t die.”

In ten minutes, Nanami was dressed in full hazmat gear and so was his team. The crinkling of plastic suits was loud in the otherwise deathly silent room as everyone held their breath. Draining the fluid of the first tube, Nanami swung open the door.

“Let’s take a look.” Nanami said as the body was lifted onto the table. It had no external sex organs to speak of, not even a hole for a cloaca. Cool to the touch, Nanami waited for it to show any signs of life.

“It’s not moving.” Someone called out after five minutes, scribbling it down on the notes. They’d tried everything, strapping an oxygen mask over the face, chest compressions and returning the body back to the fluid it had previously been in, but it was no use.

“Take that away to Getou’s lab, he’ll dissect it.” Waving the first body away, Nanami looked up at the second. “We need to instill a gradual change in environment or else the same thing will happen.”

“Should we try to set up a feeding tube or an IV?”

“IV, yes.”

The second attempt went marginally better than the first. Slowly shifting the fluid to one of a normal human amniotic fluid seemed to work. The alien twitched and rocked side to side, seemingly waking up from its slumber.

Drawing it out from the tube, it appeared to be just fine. Gasping for air, fluttering eyelids and squirming limbs - all things Nanami wanted to see. What he didn’t want though, was for the creature to lash out with unexpectedly sharp claws, cutting through the sleeve of his suit and drawing blood.

“Holy shit!” Stumbling back, Nanami watched in horror as the creature licked the blood from its nails. Smacking its lips together, the creature pointed at him. It was rapidly losing the color in its cheeks, struggling to form whatever words it needed.

“Blood? Do you need human blood to survive on this planet?” Nanami shouted, scrambling away from the table he’d flung himself onto and holding out his arm. “Take it! Quickly!”

“Doctor no!” A few of his assistants tried to yank him away from the examining table. They didn’t want to see the blood get drained from his body or him possibly get eaten by the creature.

“Stop it, let me do this!” Struggling with them, Nanami watched in rapt horror as the creature nodded slowly before fully collapsing on the table, drawing it’s last shaky inhale before falling limp entirely. “You fucking idiots, we just lost another one!” Pushing the people away, Nanami banged his fist angrily on the table.

“Doctor, we couldn’t let you do something so dangerous! You’re the most valuable scientist here, we can’t lose you!”

“Bullshit! I don’t care if the next one wants to swallow me whole, you let it!” Glaring at all the people in the room, Nanami began to rip his gear off. “And if it dies for any reason, I’m going to make sure none of you ever find work again.”

With the threat hanging heavily in the air, Nanami stormed over to the control panel one last time, punching in the codes needed to change the fluid on the remaining test tube. His arm was slowly leaking blood and he could feel the warmth drip down to his hand.

“Get me an IV, I’m going to give this last one a blood transfusion.”

“Doctor, are you sure you-”

“If you question me one more time I’ll cut your tongue out. Now do as I say.” Pulling up a chair, Nanami sat down and leaned his head against the cold glass of the tube. None of this was going as he wanted; Nanami didn’t plan to lose two out of three creatures, nor to give blood to the last one.

Hooking up an IV, Nanami watched the blood drain from his arm, flowing up and into the top of the test tube where there was a needle inserted into the last alien. Trying not to get too woozy as he was drained of blood, Nanami pressed his forehead to the glass and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I don’t believe in you but God if you’re out there, please make this work.”

“Doctor?” He wasn’t sure when he passed out, but when Nanami came to, he had a crowd of people gawking at him.

“Yes? What?” The IV was out of his arm and there was a blanket over him and as he tried to get out of his chair he nearly fell.

“L-look behind you.” Pointing with a shaking finger, the assistant that woke him up turned him to face the test tube.

“Why do you all look so-” Turning around, Nanami stumbled back, for once grateful to have someone else in the lab to catch him. “Scared?” Whispering out the last word in a high pitched voice, Nanami couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The once nondescript alien in the tube was now a fully fledged human being. With complete and fairly dark markings on their face, breasts and a vagina, the creature before him could be mistaken for any other adult.

And the thing that was most shocking was the way all four eyes honed in on Nanami, tracking his every move. Pressing it’s forehead and hands to the glass, the creature turned as Nanami walked side to side.

“It’s been watching you since you passed out.”

“How long has it been like that?” He asked, getting closer to the test tube.

“It just suddenly changed shortly after you lost consciousness. A flash of light went off and poof, it looked like that.” Pressing his hand to the glass, Nanami let out a breathless laugh as the creature scurried back only to return in mere seconds.

“Open the tube, we have to let it out.” Unable to take his eyes off the creature, Nanami could hardly wait for all the fluid to be drained before opening up the test tube and helping the creature out. Surprisingly steady on its feet, Nanami barely had to help it stand upright.

“Hello.” He smiled, shrugging off his lab coat and placing it over its shoulders. “Welcome to Earth.”

“Hello.” You said back, attempting to smile as well. “Welcome to Earth.”

When Nanami first got the embryos, he wasn’t expecting anything to come out of them. The most he thought would happen was possible growth but never any of them coming to term and certainly never of them to actually be able to communicate.

It appears you were destined to prove him wrong, however. Nearly the moment you stepped out of the test tube, dripping in fluid and with a long tail you couldn’t quite control, you exceeded all of Nanami’s expectations - not that he even had any to begin with, especially not when it came to taking you out of the tube.

The first hour, you were sitting perfectly still while the team ran tests on you. Pressing a cold stethoscope to your chest, a few of them got a giggle out of the way you gasped and squirmed. Nanami watched it all happen, taking calculated notes and even doing some of the tests himself.

“What’s your name?” He questioned after another hour of hearing you repeat the phrases around you. Staring at him from the stool you were perched on, you tilted your head. It was only you and him left in the lab now, he sent everyone else away, wanting a chance to study you on his own.

“What’s your name?” You parroted back, mimicking the way Nanami had his arms crossed over his chest.

“My name is Nanami Kento. What’s yours?”

“Nanami Kento.” He made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes at the giggle you let out. He understood he was dealing with an alien, one that might never be able to fully communicate the way he desired, but he wanted to get somewhere.

“What’ll it take for you to stop copying me?”

“Reading a book.” He’d meant it as a rhetorical question, and hearing your voice form a stilted sentence all on it’s own was a big surprise. Nodding curtly, Nanami walked over to a set of bookcases and grabbed a thick dictionary and a thesaurus, placing them onto the table next to you. Flipping open the first page of the dictionary, Nanami pointed at the words.

“Can you read these?”

“Mhmm!” Leaning over, your eyes scanned the script.

“Good, read all of it and tell me when you’re done.” Setting up a chair on the other side of the table, Nanami fixed a pile of notes and other documents he needed to work over. He could take time to catch up his reports while you-

“Done!” Slamming the dictionary closed, you picked up the thesaurus. “I have to read this too?”

“Y-yes.” Nanami’s mouth hung open slightly as he watched you speed through the second book. He expected this whole process to take an hour at least but you were done with both books in just a few minutes.

“All finished.” You were still a little unsure of forming sentences, lifting your voice in slight question at the end.

“How did you do that so fast?”

“When Mother made us, she gave us all the information she could on this planet, including rudimentary language. I just needed a way to conceptualize actually speaking on my own.”

“Who’s Mother?” Grabbing his pen, Nanami began to scribble down what you were saying.

“Mother is the one that made us. All of us, me, my companions, and Sukuna too.”

“Right…” Nanami’s hand hesitated at the mention of Sukuna, drawing inky swirls in place of words. “Then Mother is the one who sent you here with him?”

“Yes! She said that to take over this planet, we would need to assimilate to the environment and that we’d need a strong warrior to protect us.” You had a dreamy look in your eyes, no doubt thinking about Sukuna. “So far I like this-”

“Hold on, take over the planet?”

“It’s what my people do: we come to a planet, impregnate the population and take over.” He was sure there was more to it than that but for his own peace of mind Nanami didn’t question it further. For now, he wanted to focus on the positives, mainly the one of you finally speaking on your own.

“So…” Nanami struggled to find the next topic of conversation.

“Oh, I remember my name now! It’s (Y/N).”

“Did Mother also give you that name?”

“She did!” You truly looked overjoyed to be talking about all this. The smile on your face led to Nanami being able to see the sharp canine teeth in your mouth, akin to a set of teeth he’d find in a vampire movie.

“So (Y/N), I have a question. I gave you my blood so you’d be able to live on this planet.” He paused to make sure you were following along. “I want to know why you’re a female when you received male donor blood.”

“Mother determined which gender would be useful for me to have on this planet, so all I needed was your DNA to complete the transformation and become a human.”

“Mother thinks humans have those extra eyes and a tail?” Nanami snorted at that, there were too many things to give away your unhuman origins that couldn’t be ignored.

“Sukuna is supposed to teach us how to hide them until we need them.” Your shoulders visibly slumped and you looked around. “Where is he? He was supposed to be here when we woke up.”

“He’s somewhere else-”

“Where? Where is he?” Putting both palms flat on the table, you leaned forward. You seemed desperate, your brows scrunching together as you worried your lip. “I can tell he’s close, but where is he exactly?”

Nanami heard what you said. He knew exactly the words that were spoken and their meaning. But he was having a hard time thinking of anything as he suddenly became aware again of the fact that you were still naked, the lab coat you had on falling open to reveal your breasts.

“How about we talk about that while you get dressed in something more appropriate?” Clearing his throat roughly, Nanami pushed away from the table. His cheeks were getting a bit warm and he didn’t want you to see.

“No, tell me where Sukuna is!” Slapping your hands loudly on the table, you glared sharply at Nanami when he tried to come closer. “I don’t want to be alone any longer! My companions didn’t make it, he’s all I have!”

“(Y/N)...” Sighing softly, Nanami didn’t know what to do. If he tried to raise his hand, you growled at him, flexing your fingers as if you were going to strike him. He couldn’t tell you where Sukuna was, no matter what. “You’re- you’re not alone.”

“What do you mean?” Your face softened just a fraction, and you leaned back as Nanami lifted his hand slowly, placing it on the table near your own hand.

“You have me.” Nanami felt something odd twisting his stomach, something that told him this simultaneously was a good and bad idea. It wasn’t wise to say this to you, to try and build some kind of relationship beyond a scientist and his test subject, but what did he have to lose? You were the first alien he’d ever come in contact with, there were bound to be some risks he’d have to take to keep you happy.

“Really?” Relaxing your body, you let your hand get closer to Nanami’s.

“Really.” Fully grabbing your hand now, Nanami tugged you from the stool, craning his head away to avoid looking at your open chest. “Now follow me, I think there’s some scrubs in one of these drawers.”

“Nanami, I’m hungry.” After finding you a set of clothes buried in a drawer and cutting a hole in the bottoms for your tail, Nanami was greeted with the sound of your growling stomach.

“What do you eat?”

“Whatever you eat.” Taking up residence on the singular fold out couch Nanami used to sleep on, you watched him pick up the phone on his desk.

“Let’s have some pasta then.”

While Nanami preferred to cook his food himself rather than ordering it from upstairs, he didn’t have the heart to tell you that the cafeteria food was less than ideal. You seemed to love the dish he gave you, eating it with no hesitation and a smile on your face.

“Is there anything else you can tell me about your kind?” Picking over his food, Nanami watched you finish eating in record time and pushed his plate over to you.

“Like what?” Tilting your head to the side, you gladly took his food.

“Anything that comes to mind like cultural things, maybe you celebrate holidays?”

“We do! I was created to leave the planet, but others get to stay and cultivate life there. We have something close to what you call Christmas and others for things you wouldn’t understand.”

“Really? You’ll have to write them down for me later.” Nodding to himself, he made the mental note to teach you how to write. Glancing down at the two now empty plates before you, Nanami flicked his head toward the phone. “Fancy some more?”

As it reached midnight, Nanami became starkly aware of the fact there was only one place for the both of you to sleep. He wasn’t sure how much sleep you actually needed or if you needed any at all for that matter, but he knew for sure that sleeping on the same fold out mattress with you would be crossing a line he wasn’t ready for. It was already too short to hold his entire frame, and putting two bodies side by side wouldn’t be a good idea.

“(Y/N), are you tired?” Standing up from the couch, he motioned for you to stand as well.

“Yes.” Your voice was chipper as ever, not a hint of exhaustion heard. You watched with rapt interest as Nanami unfolded the mattress and set it on the ground.

“Alright, well you’ll be sleeping here and I’ll be sleeping in the barracks.”

“I’m going to be alone?”

“Is that a problem?” Quirking a brow, Nanami glanced at you.

“Well not necessarily but I- I don’t want to be alone. Not on my first night, at least.” Curling your tail on the ground, you worried your fingers, claws clicking together as you did. Nanami could feel his resolve wearing down, the nervous look you tried to hide made his fingers flex; he felt an overarching urge to protect you.

“I’ll grab another couch from the lab next door.” Turning on his heel, Nanami took deep breaths as he left the room. Forcing his head to get clear, he drug another couch into his lab, setting it up across from the first one.

“Is this what you call a sleepover?” You asked, watching Nanami set up both couches with blankets and pillows.

“You could say that, yes.” A strange giggle left your mouth and it made Nanami pause and look at you. “What was that sound?”

“A laugh?” Dropping your face in confusion, you looked him straight in the eye. “Is something wrong?”

“No no it’s just-” clearing his throat loudly, Nanami rushed out the next words, “That was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.” At his admittance, you giggled again and he had to bite his lip hard from audibly swooning.

“Mother made it special for me, she makes all her children special.” Mimicking the way Nanami climbed into bed, you laid down and stared at the dark ceiling. “Only some of us can laugh like that, and others have pheromones and what not to attract the native people on a new planet.”

“(Y/N), do you have special pheromones too?” Your casual mention of impregnating and taking over the whole planet flashed in his head.

“I think I do, why else would you have agreed to stay here with me?”

“Good to know.” Nanami would have to install a high tech air filter later, he didn’t like the idea of slowly succumbing to your desires. Fully laying down in bed, he drew the blankets up to his chin and tried not to think of it anymore. “Good night.”

For a month Nanami studied you nonstop. Gathering medical information, he discovered you had three stomachs and two hearts. Through plenty of trial and error you learned how to keep the swinging of your tail under control and not trip him anymore. He even learned your favorite foods and the relative location of your home planet in the galaxy.

When Nanami had to step out for meetings, he begrudgingly let fellow scientist Gojo watch over you. The best in his field and horribly obnoxious about it, Nanami tried to limit the time you two spent together. He didn’t need Gojo influencing you too much and ruining the work Nanami had put into acclimating you to society in an appropriate way.

“You’re back!” It was like he was coming home from work whenever you greeted him like that. You bounded over to the door from wherever you were and bounced on your toes, eager to talk to him about what he’d done while away.

“Mhmm. How’s it been with Gojo?” Nanami glanced up at said man, not liking the fact that he was lounging on the couch with his laptop perched precariously on his thigh.

“It’s great! He showed me something really interesting.” A shy giggle left your lips and you avoided further eye contact with Nanami.

“What is it?” Narrowing his eyes, Nanami began to glower at Gojo, who started to shrink under his gaze.

“(Y/N), don’t you have something to say first?” Gojo smirked, barely hiding a chuckle behind his hand.

“Oh, you’re right!” Squaring your shoulders at Nanami, you took a deep breath. “Welcome back, daddy!” Taking a brief glance at Gojo, you cupped your cheeks and stuck your tongue out, crossing your eyes for extra measure.

“W-what the fuck!” Scrambling back in shock, Nanami glared sharply at Gojo as a harsh red flush coated his cheeks. He was ashamed to admit he’d seen that face before, late at night when he was too restless to sleep and needed something to help soothe his mind.

“What’s wrong, Kento? Do you not like what (Y/N)’s doin’?” The dark chuckle behind Gojo’s words had Nanami wanting to throttle him. Of course he liked it, he was a grown man wasn’t he? Not to mention Nanami couldn’t remember the last time he’d laid down with another warm body like that and the face you were making was bringing several repressed thoughts to the surface.

Unable to form the proper words, Nanami side stepped you and went to his desk, placing files down that needed to be typed out later and trying to still his rapid heartbeat. The way you said that sentence so enthusiastically, saliva making your tongue glisten in the light - it was too much for him to deal with so abruptly.

“Why’d you teach her that shit?” Nanami growled, covering the lower half of his face with his trembling hand.

“(Y/N) deserves to know all aspects of human life, wouldn’t you agree?” Closing his laptop, Gojo stood up and walked to the door. “Besides Kento, I know you get lonely at night.” Smiling sweetly at you, Gojo left the room without any further comment.

“(Y/N).” With his back still facing you, Nanami heaved a sigh.

“Yes?” You said slowly, relaxing your body. The tension rolled off Nanami in waves, making the air thick and uncomfortable. It was hard to read whether he was angry or not.

“What has Gojo been teaching you?” The subtle sag in his shoulders isn’t missed by you, making you scramble to the desk and face him.

“I don’t know! He said there were some interesting things you’d yet to show me and he pulled up some websites and- and-” A bit of fear spiked in your head. You’d only gone along with what Gojo said was right, Nanami had entrusted you to his care after all and your whole reason for being on the planet was to assimilate. “Are you mad at me?” Rubbing at your four eyes to stem a sudden wave of anxious tears, you looked at Nanami, waiting nervously for his answer.

“Not at you. Him.” Sensing your oncoming distraught, Nanami shook his head and cleared his throat. “I want you to learn all the good things of human life and well-”

“Sex isn’t a good thing?” You gasped, leaning your hands on the desk.

“Did he teach you about sex?” Nanami nearly yelled back.

“He did! We read a lot of medical journals about it, it releases so many good chemicals into the human brain! And then Gojo went to this website called PornHub and-”

“He what?!” A heart attack. Nanami was going to have a heart attack.

“Let me finish! He showed me humans having sex and it looked like they were having a great time!” Your breath was coming out short and Nanami could hear the drag of your tail on the ground as you got worked up. “But it didn’t do anything to me, I haven’t reached that point yet!” He didn’t understand what you meant and while the urge to drown himself in the bottle of dark liquor he kept hidden away tugged at him, his pursuit for knowledge was greater.

“What do you mean you ‘haven’t reached that point yet’?” Collapsing into the desk chair, Nanami was more worked up than he thought. The shock of hearing you call him daddy, learning that you discovered what sex was and now he was going to know when you would begin to show interest in such a thing.

“Sexual maturity, I’m not there yet, so seeing that stuff didn’t do anything to me.”

“When will you be?” He pressed, grabbing a pen and getting ready to write down whatever you said on the corner of a file.

“It’s been a month since I’ve transformed, so in about a week or two.”

“That fast?” Nanami blanched, mind spinning at how he was going to deal with that. “Humans take years, though, shouldn’t my blood affect that?”

“No, my DNA only takes what it needs from yours. My base mechanics like lifespan and in this case sexual maturity are all hardwired by Mother. They won’t change just because a few drops of your blood mix in.”

“So...so what does that mean for you? Do you need some kind of special uh- a special thing or-?” His cheeks and ears burned fiercely and Nanami cleared his throat in the middle of the sentence. He knew exactly what he meant by ‘a special thing’ but he couldn’t bring himself to say it in front of you.

“I don’t know, actually.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sat on the edge of his desk. “Sukuna is supposed to tell me what happens and what to do after we pick out a suitable mate for me.”

There was that mention of Sukuna again. The creature buried so far underground some people wondered if he was passing the Earth's mantle. He’d settled down in the month since your arrival, seemingly knowing that you had emerged from the embryo and survived. He still refused to give any answers and you hadn’t mentioned him in nearly three weeks.

“You don’t need him. We can figure it out once it gets here.” Shaking his head, Nanami could feel himself getting a little high off your pheromones with you sitting so close. The air filter he put into the room could only do so much when your scent rolled off in such thick waves.

“Okay.” Sighing the word, you resigned yourself to playing with your fingers. Silence washed over the room, less tense than before but still tainted with an edge to it. Both of you were flushed from talking about this subject and Nanami was glad you had your back to him.

“(Y/N), I have another question.” A few minutes later, Nanami couldn’t hold back the question burning in his mind. You let out a hum of acknowledgement but didn’t face him. “What would be a suitable mate for you? What kind of human?”

He blamed it on your pheromones, he blamed every last less than professional thought in his head on your pheromones and what you did to him and he especially blamed Gojo for forcing this topic of conversation to come up. Nanami tried to reason with himself, put the narrative in his head that he wanted to know for science, but in the dark recesses of his mind Nanami wanted to know who your type was if you even had one.

“Well actually, a human like you is perfect.” Your back curved just a little to keep your face hidden as you spoke. The words hung in the air, leaving Nanami’s mouth hanging slightly open and his mind bouncing to a hundred different places at once.

“Like me?” He whispered, barely registering the words coming out of his mouth.

“Exactly like you.” This time you looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes narrowing as you took in his reaction. His shock seemed to be enough for you, your secondary eyes pinching closed as you smiled, and you turned back to face forward. “Nanami, I’m hungry.”

Having grown accustomed to your new home, you slid off the desk and to the couch that was yours. Nanami’s eyes were glued to your back, watching the way your tail moved on the ground as you walked. His throat was suddenly thick, there were plenty of things he wanted to say, things that would definitely violate his code of ethics.

“Nanami.” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, back to reality where you were far away from arms reach. The weight of your eyes bore right back into him and Nanami knew he’d been caught staring.

“Yes?” He forced the word out, his tongue feeling heavy and foreign in his mouth.

“Should we have pasta tonight?”

Nanami hardly slept at all that night, plagued with ideas of what you thought about him and less than savory images of you and your body. Shame settled over him like a second blanket as he tossed and turned throughout the night, trying to rid his mind of such things to no avail.

In the morning, Nanami got rid of the second couch and made the decision to sleep in the barracks when he needed to. While nothing inherently sexual had occurred, he still felt like he betrayed some sort of trust between you two, sullied the pure relationship you had together.

Ignoring your whines and protests, he also made the decision to get rid of Gojo as your babysitter. He didn’t want or need your mind filled with things he didn’t deem appropriate and Gojo was the main perpetrator of such things, and he was confident enough that he could leave you alone for a few hours and nothing bad would happen.

It almost hurts to leave you alone at night, the old ritual of slowly nudging you along your night time routine and laying down on adjacent mattresses was now replaced by getting you ready for bed but then leaving shortly after you were all tucked in. Sometimes you whined and wanted him to stay, claiming that you didn’t sleep as well without him there, and sometimes Nanami hesitated at the door before steeling his resolve and leaving.

He doubts he’ll ever tell you that he stopped sleeping as well too.

An abrupt evening meeting three weeks later called him away from you sooner than either of you would have liked. You’d developed a cough and a bit of a rash over the course of time and while Nanami was sure this meant you were reaching sexual maturity, he was still hell bent on finding some medicine to help you, not wanting to go to this meeting about another potential UFO sighting.

“(Y/N), I’m back and I-” Nanami all but ran back to his laboratory with some medicine he’d swiped from Gojo. He was worried for you, not just as a scientist but as a friend. Throwing open the door and locking it quickly to contain any possible airborne particles, Nanami was assaulted with the harsh smell of something sweetly floral.

“N-nanami!” His eyes immediately find you, writhing in what looks like agony on the mattress he’d pulled out for you before leaving. Walking quickly over to you, every inhale he made felt like he was breathing in a thick fog.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” Coughing and putting a hand over his face, he looked over you. It was normal for you to just wear a long, oversized t-shirt Gojo got you from a local thrift store to sleep and right now it was clinging tightly to your body from the sweat pouring out of you.

“Nanami!” Shaking your head side to side, he could see the tears leaking out of your eyes. Against his better judgement, Nanami crouched down on one knee and put a hand on your forehead.

“Shit, you’re burning up.” Pulling his fingers away, there was a light yellow powdery film left on them. “(Y/N) what is this? Has it started?” The substance tingled on his fingers, making them go slightly numb.

There was a pitiful noise from you as a response and a limp nod, and Nanami rushed to the sink to wash off his hands. The scent in the room was overwhelming, almost choking him with every inhale he made. Turning the ventilation system on as high as it could go did nothing and there was still pollen visibly floating in the air.

“I have to go, I can’t be here.”

“No!” You cried, falling out of bed with a loud thump and crawling toward Nanami. “D-don’t leave!”

“I have to, this stuff isn’t good for me.” Nanami kept his back to you, hastily trying to grab some things from his desk. His cock was already beginning to stiffen painfully and the sounds you were making were echoing inside his head.

“Wait!” Tugging on his pant leg, you dug your claws into it.

“(Y/N), let go.” He tried to shake you off, staunchly avoiding eye contact. The heat on his skin was rising and if Nanami were to look in a mirror he would see how red he was. You refused to let go, sitting up on weak knees and pushing your hand further up his leg.

“D-daddy, please! Help me!”

That was it. That was the moment that broke Nanami Kento. He knows Gojo has told you that he likes to be called that in bed, among other things. He knows that the pollen in the air is what’s making his head impossibly foggy with only one thing able to be focused on. Nanami knows that if he stays here any longer, he’ll do something that he won’t regret, but that might cost him his job.

“Daddy…” Emboldened by unbridled desperation, you force Nanami to face you with strength he didn’t know you possessed. Eye to eye with his cock straining against his slacks, you shove your face right into it.

“(Y/N)!” Your name comes out as a rough groan from his lips and Nanami’s hands fly to grab the back of your head. As he grips your head, Nanami makes no move to pull you away and doesn’t stop you from rubbing your face along his clothed cock.

“Please please please, just this once! I need to do this-” The pleading you're doing is muffled by your mouth running along fabric, words slurred and barely coming out properly. Just from this stimulation alone Nanami can feel his balls tighten like he’s about to cum.

“Sto-stop, stop this.” Nanami’s own sense of morals, his will to do anything besides being in this room with you was going to be torn to shreds the longer you touched him. And it was, as he came in his pants, rutting his hips like a pathetic teenager into your face.

He came but his cock was still as hard as before, maybe even more so. There was no reprieve from the painful need to be stimulated, to feel you touch him again and again and again. With a mangled groan, he shoves your head away and grabs his waistband.

Swatting your hands away that still rest on his hips, Nanami undoes his belt and shoves his pants and underwear down to the ground. His cock slaps against his dress shirt, glistening from the previous load of cum and leaking more like he’s never seen before.

“What did you do to me?” He asks under his breath, feeling sweat pooling on his skin despite being half naked. As he takes off his remaining clothes, Nanami can feel the tingle from the pollen settling all over him, sticking to his hair and to every crevice of his body.

“D’ya like it, daddy? That’s what M-mother chose for me, it’s a new- a new evolution we got from a previous planet.” It’s amazing that you can stand on your own feet despite the way your legs shake violently. Nanami can tell you’re in a sorry state, so he lets you lead him to the mattress and fall back onto it.

“Mother made you pollen? How interesting.” Somewhere far back in his head, he really did find it genuinely interesting. But right now he was merely making conversation, settling on the bed as you climbed on top of him and took your wet shirt off.

The rash that had been on your skin was now turning into powdery pollen before his very eyes, falling off and into the air like a flower's pollen would. Laying down on Nanami, pressing your breasts against his chest, you fell into a kiss with him.

Even though it was your first kiss, Nanami was the one left feeling inexperienced as you slotted your mouths together and slid your tongue past his lips. Even your saliva was sweet as it dripped it into his mouth and down the sides. Nanami’s hands roamed your body, pinching into your sides and squeezing your ass painfully tight. Surprisingly, your tail didn’t get in the way, just languidly swaying side to side and sometimes tickling his shins.

“Daddy, please- I want more!” You whined loudly, breaking the kiss to trail your lips along his neck and chest and nip at the skin every so often.

“Tell me. Tell- tell daddy what you want.” There was the slightest hesitation, a tiny tinge of shame for doing this with you that got washed away as quickly as it came up by your wet cunt sliding against his cock.

“I want you inside me.” Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you stroked it slowly, unable to focus on putting it in and kissing him at the same time. Giving up with a grunt, you settled for rubbing your cunt along his shaft.

“Shit, roll over.” Flipping you with ease, Nanami grabs onto your thighs and holds them apart. Staring down at your cunt, it looks just like any other human sex organ, giving Nanami some peace of mind that he wouldn’t need to do anything too complicated to make you feel good.

You whine again when he doesn’t immediately push himself balls deep into you, instead laying on his stomach and giving your inner thighs kisses. Nanami grabs your hands, silently telling you to hold your legs apart as he delves in deeper.

One lick up your slit and you fall apart so easily, gushing around his mouth so much Nanami is sure you just had an orgasm. Greedily drinking it up, Nanami can attest that this is the best thing he’s ever tasted. Burying his face into your heat, he can’t keep his tongue in one place for too long, torn between pushing it deep inside you and licking at your swollen clit.

You’ve given up holding your legs open a while ago. As Nanami sucked on your clit, your thighs clamped down around his head and your fingers threaded through his hair. The feeling of his mouth on you was the best you’d ever experienced in your short time being alive and it was one you’d think about forever.

“Oh my- daddy, I-” Your eyes were closed so tightly you were seeing stars and you were sure Nanami couldn’t breathe anymore from how tightly you squeezed him as you came. His head thrashed side to side, tongue swiping all along your sex and inner thighs to catch all of your release.

“This is the best scientific breakthrough we’ve ever had.” Wrenching his head away before he passed out, Nanami laid limply on the bed. As the words left his mouth he remembered all those weeks ago now when you first came to him as just a tiny, glowing embryo. He never would have been able to imagine that you’d be here, turning him to lay on his back and crawling between his legs.

Grabbing the base of his cock firmly, you gave one lick to the tip before engulfing it fully in your mouth. Nanami’s back arched high off the bed in shock, surprised at the lack of hesitation from you and how easily he hit the back of your throat.

“S-slow down a little.” He panted, trying to cup your face and get you to look at him. Swatting his hand away, you let your tongue loll in your mouth as you sucked him off, easily planting your nose on his lower stomach and swallowing around him.

It must have been the pollen in the air to make him cum so quickly, Nanami reasoned with a harsh blush on his face. That was the only explanation for why he was currently spilling a thick load of cum down your throat in less than two minutes of you sucking him off.

“You taste so good, daddy.” Pulling off his cock, you licked the sides and down to his balls, gently sucking one into your mouth and looking up at him. Despite just cumming, Nanami felt another orgasm wash over him and another wave of cum came out, dribbling down the sides of his cock and onto your face.

Slapping a hand over his face, Nanami let out a few moans he’d been holding back. There was no way he would ever be able to look at you the same way after seeing your face covered in his seed.

“C’mere.” Stopping you from your current ministrations, he pulled you to lay over top of him again. Grabbing your sweaty shirt from the ground, he wiped the cum off your face, kissing your skin after he wiped it clean.

“Daddy, will you put it in already?” You cried, smacking your ass against his thighs angrily.

“Be patient, baby.” Petting down your back, Nanami shushed you, giving your ass a quick pinch before gripping the base of his cock. Keeping a hand on your hip to keep you steady, he helped you sink down on his cock, easily all the way to the hilt.

Digging your claws into his chest, you let out a loud howl. Finally you were getting what you really needed, the feeling of Nanami’s cock hugged tightly by your cunt spreading a warm feeling throughout your body.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He hissed as you dragged your hips upward and back down again. Sure he’d been with other women before but none like this. Your cunt squeezed him incredibly tight, making it impossible for him to do anything other than lay back and let you move however you saw fit.

You weren’t shy in your motions either, riding his cock with a dizzying confidence and nearly fumbling down into a heap of loud moans on more than one occasion. Even with all the prep before your arrival to the planet and research you’d done about sex and the human experience, nothing could have prepared you for how good it actually felt during your heat.

Nanami was sure everyone within the compound could hear what was going on in the room, your noises were as loud as they’d ever been. The sound was as beautiful as when you laughed, hypnotizing him further into compliance.

“Shit!” He cursed harshly, nails digging into the flesh of your hips as he came. As his orgasm came over him, Nanami got no break from the pleasurable waves washing over him because you refused to stop.

“More, more!” You panted, working even harder to get him to cum again. With the added vigor, more pollen released into the air and Nanami breathed in a deep mouthful. Snaking an arm around your back, Nanami rolled you over, acting on pure instinct as he pushed and pulled your body into a mating press.

“You’re so- so demanding, baby.” The pet name came without thinking, not that Nanami was doing a whole lot as he pounded the full length of his cock into you. He wasn’t sure you could hear him, even while being face to face like this. There were too many sounds in the room, the moans that left both of you freely, the wet slapping of skin against skin and the creak of the old mattress springs.

“Please, give it all to me!” Throwing your head back, your cunt spasmed around Nanami’s cock for the umpteenth time, making another gush of your release coat everything within its reach.

Nanami was sure you’d have bruises later from how hard he gripped you but right now he couldn’t find it in him to care. The only thing on his mind was fucking you so hard you stopped babbling and crying like a baby for more of him. He wanted to give you all that he had and more until he himself collapsed as well.

Pushing a hand between your bodies, when he touched your clit Nanami briefly went deaf, unprepared for the incredibly high pitched moan that left your lips. His ears were ringing fiercely but he kept going, refusing to take his eyes off the way your mouth fell open as he rubbed your clit in quick circles.

“H-how many- how many times have you cum?” He gasped, feeling the very beginnings of a burn in his thighs.

“Not enough, it’s not enough.” Thrashing your head against the mattress, you wound your arms around his shoulders. “I need more, daddy.”

“I don’t have any more.” Nanami spoke around the smothering kisses you gave him.

“You do! Just- just a few more!” He wasn’t really in a position to argue with you, you were holding onto him with far more strength than he could ever hope to possess, and while the pollen on your skin had started to diminish there was still a lot in the air that refused to let him truly come to a stop.

As if on command, Nanami felt his balls tighten up and he came again. The arms holding him up broke down and he fell on top of you, burrowing his face into your neck and holding your hips up with his hands.

“Fuck, baby-” With his eyes squeezed shut, Nanami lost track of where he actually was. Nothing mattered except for the feeling of your body underneath him and your cunt holding him in a vice grip. There wasn’t any reason to keep track of how many times he’d emptied a load inside you, so when he did it again so soon after the other one, Nanami paid it no mind.

“It’s coming!” You gasped suddenly, cradling the back of Nanami’s head as your body suddenly came to a stop. Unable to stammer out a question as to what was coming, Nanami was met with the harsh shock of your cunt getting so tight he couldn’t move any further.

Raking your fingers through his hair, you sobbed openly, words slurring together. Nanami was only able to catch something about a ‘seal’ and how you were making Mother so proud for your first heat cycle on Earth.

“Baby, what’s going on?” Craning his head down, Nanami was just barely able to see the swollen flesh of your sex encompassing his cock.

“Y-you humans would call this a knot, right?” Shifting your hips a little, you slowly unwind your legs from around Nanami and let them lay on the bed. “I have to keep you inside for a while.”

“You’re going to get pregnant though.” With his mind still in disarray, Nanami found that he didn’t actually care. He knew that was why you came to the planet and he was willing to help you fulfill your mission.

“Not this first time, I’m only keeping it for later.”

“Of course an alien has sperm storage.” Mumbling to himself, Nanami felt the aches in his body finally starting to settle in as the rest of the pollen was cleared out of the air and the world around him returned to normal. Laying down as gently as possible, Nanami rolled you onto your side and hooked your leg over him. “How long will we be like this?”

“At least another five minutes.” Snuggling closer to him, you tucked your head under his chin. Taking a deep breath, Nanami felt around for the blanket you used that had managed to stay on the bed during all the moving. Throwing it over the two of you, he let out a sigh.

“I can wait five minutes.” No doubt there was going to be a lot of explaining to do on his part, and he could possibly get fired, but Nanami refused to think about that right now. He was far too tired, and the way you cuddled into him had not an ounce of regret or shame going through him. He would do it all again in a heartbeat.

“Nanami?” You whispered, fighting through sleep.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Did you know what love truly was? Did you have the capacity to love him like any other human, or were you thinking of a different emotion that you wanted to convey? Maybe you loved him in a way that he couldn’t understand and never would, or perhaps you were lying to further your agenda.

“I love you too.” Kissing the top of your head, Nanami pushed all other thoughts out of his head that could lead him to a negative outcome. Focusing on the sound of your breathing, he knew you had fallen asleep, and he kissed you again. “Yeah...I love you too.”

[fangaminghell]

I guess this will be a new master post since it's been a while and I've gotten pretty far in rejuvenation! That, and the new ocs I've made. Please keep in mind that these character bio's are prone to change as I get further into each story.

Rejuv Cast

Imani Ambrose ( she/her. Has gotten used to they/them): The main protagonist of Pokemon Rejuvenation! She's a chill and cheerful gal who has a small mischievous streak ( read: she's a chaotic gremlin)! All she wants is to protect her friends and make people happy! She's very into fashion and can sketch and make her own designs.

Flynn Fujimori ( she/her): A student at Axis High University aiming to be a doctor....at least that's what her parents want. She doesn't really know what she wants herself, even if she's really good at what she currently does. Is friends with Risa, someone who got her out of her shell.

Arrow Chalcedony ( they/them): Lives in GDC( The Underground), but was originally from the Badlands. May or may have not joined Team Bladestar but quit when realizing how dangerous they really are ( this is still undecided, but thought I'd mention it)

Reborn Cast!

Leo Joshi (he/him): Reborn main protag.Formerly a rich douche bag, now a runaway to get a new start when he got a wave up call( via his friend group finally leaving him). Actively trying to be better than he was before, but still puts up the mask of being cool and confident ( he doesn't really see himself in the best light anymore). Did not expect all shit that's going down to go down. Send help.

"Delia"/ Suraya Indu Joshi ( she/her): Leo's older sister who followed him to Reborn. He did runaway after all. Use the fake name of "Delia" to get around easier ( as easy as you can when you look moderately rich), and is generally more prepared than her brother. She's very concerned for him, and can only hope he's doing okay.

Blair Winters ( Xe/xem and they/them. Mostly xe/xem): Formerly an assassin, now a gun for hire/bodyguard, now tasked with escorting "Delia" across Reborn in search for her brother. They are as cold as ice with many inner demons, and they have a deep hatred for Team Meteor.

Desolation Cast!

Asra Reverie ( they/them): Desolation main protagonist! Posh goth royalty with a cool ass parasol. They are good at cooking, music and especially physical fitness( their parasol can be deadly). Despite having a calm collected demeanor, they love winning and can be pretty competitive. They are still fairly easy to talk to, especially over a cup of tea.

Cande Caballero ( he/she): Eldest sibling of two that lives in Cellia City. Takes on lots of jobs to provide for her siblings, but also has a strong sense of justice, this refusing the offers that the Foxes offer him. Is generally well loved among his community, always willing to help those in need.

Philomena ( she/her): A mysterious woman that seems to know more than she lets on. She's friendly enough,and has a slightly air headed nature to her. Whether or not that air headedness is an act no one knows. She likes to call Lilith "Lillie".

As you can see, desolation doesn't have a lot of ocs. This is mainly because I don't have a good basis for them yet. I haven't played desolation in a long while and am currently waiting for the update! That being said, Asra won't be the only one from desolation, I assure you!

So that's it! Other than these guys, I'm gonna just be posting a whole lot of reactions to the fangames and rom hacks I'm playing ( which probably means more ocs lol). Also feel free to interact if you wanna! Ocs and all :).

Okay, now that's it. I hope you enjoy your time here!

[tripleaxeldiaz]

nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy

read on ao3

Eddie’s fine. Really. He’s got a fresh scar on his right shoulder, a twin to his other one, and a couple more medical bills to pay off, but other than that, everything is good.

Why shouldn’t it be? Things could be worse — he could’ve lost his arm, could’ve been shot in the spine instead, could’ve not survived the trip to the hospital. But he did — he’s healed, he’s still breathing, and he’s ready to get back to work on Monday, to stop staring at the inside of his house and get back to the life he’d finally started to feel settled in. There’s a twinge in his chest every time he thinks about actually being back out in the field, but it’s just nerves, a small worry at getting back into the swing of things. He knows the team and how well they work together, so he’s sure one rope rescue with Buck is all it’ll take to feel normal again.

He’s fine. Or almost fine. Really, he is. He doesn’t let the tremble in his hands or the ice in his gut tell him otherwise.

~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t really register, the first time it happens. There’s a glint of light in his periphery, and for a second, his arms go numb. It’s just a second, though — he sees the flash again, sunlight shining off an axe Ravi is packing onto the truck, and he moves on, doesn’t think about it again.

The next time, the wind whips by his ear a little too fast after a call at the pier, and he turns around so quickly he cracks his neck, the thought of bulletbulletbullet ricocheting in his head. It gets him a concerned look from Bobby and reminds him that he never called that therapist his doctor mentioned at his last visit, but he elects to deal with it later and moves on.

Things keep happening, but they’re all small, insignificant — someone laughing too loudly at dinner, the feel of hot asphalt under his hands as he reaches under the ambulance for a runaway bandage roll, a phantom jolt of pain in his shoulder when someone accidentally jostles him running to the truck.

Tiny things, meaningless, not even worth remembering.

He’ll get used to them, eventually. He’s been healing, isolated from the real world for months now, it’s going to be a bit of a shock to his system and his senses.

He doesn’t call the therapist.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck’s happy. Genuinely happy, in an open, honest way that Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen. His laughs are still loud but they’re freer, unrestrained, and his smile is bright enough to light whatever room he’s in. It makes something sing in Eddie’s chest, especially when all that wattage gets directed at him. If he’s honest, the music’s been there for a while, it just took lying in his own blood, reaching toward the only thing that felt like safety, for him to finally put a name on the song that’s been playing.

Talk about shitty timing.

Because Buck’s with Taylor now, and as much as he still doesn’t care for her, she’s helping with Buck’s new attitude too. He sees the soft smiles that linger after a text from her, and he only gives himself a minute to wish it were for him instead before reminding himself how much of a miracle those smiles are at all.

If he had watched Buck get shot, been splattered with his blood, been soaked with it as he tried to stop it from leaking out of his chest, he’s not sure he would’ve had any kind of happiness to spare.

So he adds this feeling, this particularly green beast twisting in his chest, to the list of things that he’s just going to have to get used to, and moves on. Buck is still in his and Chris’ life, still at their house more than his own, still the center of both of their worlds, and that’s enough. 

It has to be.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow, Eddie, you look like shit.”

He glares at Chimney as best he can, but he’s too tired for it to hold any heat. “Good morning to you too, Chim.”

Hen sits next to him at the table where he’s nursing his second mug of coffee of the day, downing the first one before driving Chris to school. She presses the back of her hand to his forehead, and he tries not to melt into the touch too much.

“You don’t feel warm,” she says, “but you look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

He shrugs, staring down at his coffee. “Just haven’t been sleeping well.”

That may be an understatement. Not sleeping well implies sleeping at all, which Eddie’s not sure he’s been able to do in the past few days. It was easy enough when he first got home, still on pain meds that made his eyelids constantly heavy. And when Chris crawled into his bed the night after his sling came off, quiet but sniffling and burrowing into his side, it was a relief to gather him up close, a hand stroking through his hair as they both drifted off, clinging to each other. It was good for both of them, necessary to remind them both that Eddie is still here, but Chris went to his own room on Monday night instead of Eddie’s, and Eddie refused to take that choice away from him. 

So he’s been alone, in a too dark room with a too big bed and a too loud brain that only shows him flashes of light and blood and fear whenever he does try to close his eyes.

Just another thing he has to get used to.

He sees Chim and Hen exchange a look and hopes to God they don’t press it. He’s beyond frayed, his state of exhaustion warring with his almost constant state of hypervigilance, and he’s not sure if he’d snap or cry or both if they try to ask him any more questions. Either way, that’s not how he wants them or anyone else to see him, especially not at work. At work, he’s Mr. Cool, always level headed, always in the game, always on top of it. Despite the jumpiness, despite the sense of dread that seems to be a permanent fixture under his skin, he’s been able to keep that attitude going, even getting lost in it sometimes, feeling like the Eddie of four months ago again. If that starts to unravel, who knows what other parts of him will fall apart with it?

Luckily, they seem to get the hint, a pat on the back and a squeeze on the shoulder as they leave the loft to restock the ambulance. But even once they’re gone and he’s alone in the quiet of the loft again, Eddie feels exposed. Fragile. Vulnerable. Teetering on the edge of an abyss he can’t afford to fall into. And he hates it, because this isn’t him. He’s the protector, the provider, the guy who’s survived getting shot twice now, and as much as he encourages Chris to be open and emotional, it still feels wrong to him, like something too close to failure. He knows, rationally, that talking about the mess in his head would probably help, but it would also feel like a loss. Like this one-sided war he’s been fighting was all for nothing.

He hears Buck before he sees him, his unmistakable bounding up the stairs echoing through the whole loft. Just that sound, just the knowledge that Buck is about to be in his vicinity, is enough to yank Eddie back from the edge. He’s not settled or calm or better, but he’s not worse. These days, that’s all he can really ask for.

Buck takes Hen’s vacant seat, stealing a sip of coffee and chattering about a traveling art exhibit he thinks they should take Chris to. Eddie feels the vice on his ribs loosen, letting Buck’s voice and enthusiasm wash over him, pushing him back to center. He doesn’t quite make it, not when Buck stops talking mid-sentence, brow furrowed and looking so intensely at Eddie he can probably see right through him

“You look tired,” Buck says. 

Tired isn’t a strong enough word. But he smirks half heartedly instead, willing a little bit of his confidence back to get the subject changed sooner. “And here I thought I looked good today.”

“No, you always—“ Buck clears his throat and shakes his head, “You just look like you could use a nap. Are you okay?”

And for the first time since he woke up in the hospital with a new hole in his body and extra demons in his head, Eddie doesn’t want to say he’s fine. In the face of earnest blue eyes and worry lines, he doesn’t want to lie, and that’s exactly what an I’m fine would be, no matter how much he’s been trying to ignore it. He doesn’t want to downplay and pretend that it’s nothing, because it’s Buck. Buck who has seen him lower than he’s ever let anyone see, who slept on his couch so he was never too far away from him or Chris, who knows when Eddie needs to be pulled or pushed or pressed or none of the above. 

He doesn’t want to just say he’s fine, because he’s not.

The courage to say so finally fills him, just in time for Buck’s phone to light up, Taylor’s name flashing across the screen on two messages. Buck doesn’t even glance at his phone before flipping it face down and pushing it to the side, but it’s too late — Eddie feels his walls going back up, any bravery leaving to make room for the reminder that Buck is in a good place and Eddie will do anything to keep him there. He’ll take another bullet, he’ll keep every emotion under lock and key, he’ll carve his own damn heart out of his chest if he has to. He cannot — will not — be the reason that smile that’s become so natural on Buck’s face dims by even a watt. 

The crease in between Buck’s brow has only gotten deeper the longer Eddie hasn’t answered, so he musters up the most genuine smile he can. “I’m okay, Buck. I promise.” The lie cuts through his throat like broken glass.

Buck squints at him, scooting forward until his knees are digging into Eddie’s thigh. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”

“Of course,” he says, another lie, more salt in the wounds he’s already given himself. Buck’s quiet for a few long moments, studying Eddie’s face, and Eddie prays that he doesn’t crack, that Buck doesn’t keep pressing. By some miracle, he doesn’t, just rests a hand on Eddie’s knee and squeezes before heading to the pantry for a snack.

The vice is back as soon as he’s out of sight, and Eddie’s list of things he has to learn to live with is starting to feel a little too long.

~~~~~~~~~~

Healing isn’t linear. It’s something he’s heard from every doctor he’s seen, every therapist he’s been assigned to, something he’s experienced first hand, physically and emotionally. So when he wakes up one morning feeling rested, energetic, and normal, he’s wary. He doesn’t want to focus on it, afraid he’ll scare this fragile feeling away, but he also wants to soak in it as much as he can. Wants to remember the easy laughs with the team and the night of board games with Chris and Buck when he’s inevitably surrounded by darkness again tomorrow.

He falls asleep and he doesn’t dream and he wakes up and feels...normal. Again. Same thing the morning after, and the morning after that. For a whole week, he doesn’t wake up with the taste of blood in his mouth or a soreness in his shoulder. He hears birds and sees the sun peaking in and feels something dangerously close to good. The wariness is still there, but every day it gets pushed a little farther back in his mind, making it a little easier to believe that while this feeling might not last, maybe it won’t be as dark when the clouds roll back in.

He’s wrong. 

The restlessness comes back with a vengeance — a thrumming in his blood that won’t let him sleep, that amplifies every sound to sharp snaps that remind him too much of the gunfire he’s been trying to forget, putting him constantly on edge again. There’s a heaviness too, making it hard to breathe, hard to move, even though staying in one place for too long feels like putting a target on his back for the monsters that have made a home in his head.

He tries to keep his cool, tries to keep the facade up, but it’s hard to keep your balance on a frayed tightrope.

Bobby notices the shift right away.

It doesn’t help that even the quiet thump of the oven closing makes Eddie flinch where he’s sitting at the kitchen counter. He had hoped that watching Bobby make breakfast would calm him, remind him of the countless hours he’s spent in Abuela’s kitchen doing the very same thing, but it doesn’t. He’s still jittery, worse than he can remember being, and everything just feels like too much. 

Bobby sets a to-go container down in front of him, and Eddie flinches (and curses himself) again. He looks up, confused, and is met with Bobby’s I’m about to tell you to do something and you are not allowed to say no look. Usually it’s Buck on the receiving end of that one.

He tries for a deflection. “Are we going somewhere, Cap?”

The look stays in place. “We are not. You are. There’s enough in there for you and Chris, take it home and don’t let me see you here for the next 48 hours.”

“There’s still three hours left of shift.”

Bobby pushes the container closer. “Go home, Diaz. Be with your kid. We’ll talk when you get back. And if you won’t talk to me, we’ll find someone you will talk to.”

Normally, he’d fight back. Raise his hackles, insist he doesn’t need any special treatment or intervention. But he feels like his insides have been scooped out and replaced with lead and cement and he’s tired. He barely has enough left in him to keep himself upright.

He slowly picks up the container and gets up to leave. Bobby calls his name as he gets to the top of the stairs.

“We’re here for you,” he says. “You’ve been through too much to be handling this on your own. Just let us know how we can help.”

I would if I could, but I don’t even know where to start. 

He just nods, hopes his face looks some degree of reassuring, and heads to the locker room.

~~~~~~~~~~

The way Chris’ face lights up when he sees Eddie waiting for him in the front office is enough to thaw the ice in his chest for a minute. He can hear the exact octave his mother’s voice would reach if she heard about him pulling Chris out of school for “no good reason”, but he also could not give less of a shit.

He feels a little bit more like a person with Chris in the backseat. That’s a good enough reason for him.

They set up camp in the park near their house, Bobby’s food and extra snacks Eddie picked up spread out between them, and Chris fills Eddie in on all the things he missed while he was working. He tries to focus on everything — Chris’ excitement about his upcoming science fair, the Sour Patch Watermelon sugar stuck to the tip of his nose, the way his hands move with his words. Eddie feels better, more settled, just getting to bask in the sun and in Chris like this, but he still feels heavy, like every move he makes has him fighting against gravity, threatening to pull him into the dirt. 

There’s a crack from the playground in front of them, and Eddie’s blood turns to ice. He’s halfway to standing before he sees it’s just some kids snapping sticks in half to build some kind of log cabin. He lets out a slow breath as he sits back down and wills his heartbeat back to normal.

Chris is staring at him, eyes intense and brow furrowed, very similar to someone else they know.

Shit.

As soon as he’s settled, Chris moves to sit in the criss-cross of his legs. He’s a little too on the lanky side for this anymore, but Eddie’s absolutely not going to complain. Chris twists until he’s looking Eddie in the eye. Eddie does his best not to look away.

Chris rests a hand on his cheek. “It’s okay if you’re feeling bad,” he says. “You can talk to me about it, if you want.”

The crack comes from Eddie’s own heart this time. His kid has been through so much in 10 short years, and it’s only made him wiser than he should be, compassionate and understanding and open, ready to be there for anyone without a second thought. He’s good in every sense of the word, and Eddie’s in awe of the fact that he, somehow, has something to do with that. And the last thing he wants to do is lie to his son, but he just...can’t. Talk about it. Not now. Not yet. Not in a way that will keep Chris this good.

He has no way of articulating all that, so he just wraps his arms around Chris’ middle and squeezes him close.

“I know, buddy. Thank you. I’ll be okay, and we’ll talk soon.”

It’s not a lie, but it’s not everything.

It seems to be enough for Chris, though. He nods and pats Eddie’s face before reaching into his backpack and pulling out a library book. “Well, I’m gonna read to you until you feel better, just like you do for me.”

It’s the first real smile Eddie’s cracked in months. He kisses the top of Chris’ head, settling his chin there as Chris leans back into his chest.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

They sit there for a while longer, Chris reads to him about Percy and Annabeth and Grover, and Eddie, inexplicably, feels a little bit lighter.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck’s Jeep is parked outside when they get home, and Chris practically breaks down the door to greet him. It looks like he’s gone all out, too — Chinese food on the table, the promise of cookies and cream ice cream in the fridge, and a list of movies that Chris ecstatically agrees with as Buck lists them off. Chris hurries off to change and clean up for dinner, and Eddie moves to start opening plastic lids and cardboard containers. 

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” he says. He leaves out just having you with us is enough.

Buck waves him off. “Anything for you two.”

He could leave it at that, keep up the comfortable silence as they move around the kitchen in tandem, but there’s a nagging memory that he has to ask about or he’ll never stop thinking about it.

“Didn’t you have a date with Taylor tonight?”

Buck tenses ever so slightly, a container of dumplings shifting in his hand. “Cancelled,” he says with a shrug.

Eddie knows there’s more, but Chris comes back before he can ask, and it doesn’t feel like a conversation they can have in front of a 10 year old. So they eat, and fall into the familiar banter between the three of them, and for half an hour, Eddie can be present. He can forget the last six months and the weight still hanging off of him and live in this moment, with the two most important people in his life, and pretend that this is all there is. Just these two and their joy and warmth that wraps around him tight enough to make him feel alive again, if only for a little while.

Two bowls of ice cream and one and a half movies later, Chris is dead to the world. Buck carries him to bed and Eddie tries to ignore the new ache that’s sprung up of the course of the evening, the one that wants and pulls towards Buck like a magnet. The one that almost purrs when Buck settles back on the couch so close they’re touching from ankle to (good) shoulder, contentedness washing over the living room as they find a rerun of The Shawshank Redemption playing on cable. It’s not perfect, there’s still a roiling in his blood that won’t seem to leave him alone, but he feels better than he has in God knows when.

Buck shifts closer to Eddie, eyes glowing in the light of the TV, and Eddie never wants him to leave. “Thanks for coming tonight. I— Chris and I both really needed this, I think.”

“I told you, anything for you two. Always.”

He ignores the way his stomach flips and tries to focus on the movie. He gets about five minutes of peace before another thought comes back, still nagging him, mixing with his anxiety enough to actually force him to say something.

He aims for cool and casual. “So, you and Taylor...everything okay?”

Buck gives him a very long, almost challenging look before turning off the TV. Seems he missed that casual mark. “I should be asking you the same thing.” “Very funny.”

“I’m not trying to be. I’m really worried about you, Eds.”

“This isn’t my first time getting shot, I know how to handle it.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as bitter as it does, but he can’t bring himself to care, either. He doesn’t have the energy to keep a filter up anymore.

“Eddie, I’m serious.”

“I’m fine, Buck,” he says sharply, and he’s surprised his teeth haven’t fallen out of his head yet with how hard he’s lying through them. He hates that he’s lying to Buck at all, but those smiles he’s gotten used to have been fewer and farther between recently, and he knows it’s his fault. He might feel like his own seams are coming apart, but he’ll be damned if he rips Buck open too, even if it means pushing him away from his mess. “You’ve got a life and a girlfriend to worry about, I’ll figure everything out on my own.” 

“I don’t.”

“What?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend. We broke up.”

Eddie pauses, curses the faint hope that sparks in his chest. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been a little distracted by someone else for the past few months. It didn’t feel fair to her to keep it going.”

He gives him another long look, and Eddie might be a little dense when it comes to things like this, but that look breaks through loud and clear. This is it. This is real. This is everything he’s wanted for the past six months — and probably longer than that — but now that it’s happening, it doesn’t feel right. Buck was happy, free, finally settled into his own skin, and it’s all gone now because of Eddie and his stupid, broken everything. He knows he won’t be able to give Buck everything he needs, at least right now, but Buck needs to know that too. “Buck—”

“Nope,” he says with a firm shake of his head. “I know you’re gonna try and blame yourself for this somehow, but…don’t. It was bound to happen anyway. Because you’re right, I do have a life, but it’s you two. You and Chris. That’s all I need it to be. That’s all I want it to be. And I hate that it took so long for me to figure out, that it took you getting shot, but we’re here now.” His eyes shutter a bit as he looks down at his hands. “At least, I hope we are.”

And there it is. So simple, so easy, for Buck to admit this huge thing that Eddie thought he was dancing around on his own. The ease reminds Eddie, through his fog of sadness and anger and every other bleak feeling that’s been controlling him, that that’s what makes them work so well together. Honesty. Being able to show all their ugly, mismatched inside parts to each other and still find the beauty, the ways to help, the ways to hold each other together when they need it the most.

And Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever needed to be held together more than he does right now.

“Ask me,” he whispers, the sound seeming to echo around the room.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me if I’m okay.”

Buck shuffles on the couch until they’re facing each other, takes both of Eddie’s hands in his. 

“Eddie,” he says softly, “are you okay?”

The world blurs as the tears he’s been fighting finally break free, but he feels strong. Brave. Like he can do anything now that Buck’s holding his hand.

“No,” he says, a crack in his voice but the conviction behind it still firm. “No, I’m not okay.”

The floodgates open, and he lets everything wash over him, all the things he’s been holding back, forcing away in the hopes that they’d just disappear one day. He’s floating and sinking and lost in the waves of it all, but strong arms wrap around him and pull him close, and there’s relief. Not a lot, not enough, but it’s there, for the first time since he woke up in the hospital. He feels safe here, with Buck wiping away his tears and pressing kisses along his hairline. He honestly forgot what safety felt like, was sure he’d never feel anything like it again. But he knew it that day he was bleeding out on the street, and he knows it now — it feels like Buck’s sweatshirt and smells like his aftershave and sounds like whispers of it’s okay and I’ve got you.

It all subsides, eventually, but Buck still holds him close, presses their foreheads together so there’s nothing else Eddie can focus on. His eyes are piercing, bright like Eddie only usually sees when Buck has a plan that refuses to be derailed.

“Let me help, Eddie,” he says, punctuated with a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “I know you think you can do this yourself, but you don’t have to. I don’t want you to. Let me help you carry it.”

His voice left with the rush of everything, so all Eddie can do is nod before sinking back into Buck, into relief. Even that simple motion, the silent acknowledgement that he’s not alone anymore, is enough to let small seeds of hope sink into him and take root. They’re still weak, still unfamiliar, but they’re here, waiting to grow. 

And Eddie knows, with a certainty that he forgot he was capable of, that Buck will be here to help tend to them, no matter how long it takes for them to blossom.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Eddie wakes up the next morning, he still feels weighed down. There’s still an edge, an unease low in his gut, anxiety still crawling through his veins.

He’s not okay. But he looks over and sees Buck — breathing even, arm thrown over Eddie’s stomach, keeping him close — and the ever-present darkness fades from an angry black to melancholy grey. Not perfect, not even close, but better.

He’s not okay. He hasn’t been for a while. But now, finally, he feels like he will be.