“Weekend” [AO3] 

🚀 during ME2 🚀

1. Reunion (chapter 1)

“I found him, Shepard. I could take you there.”

2. The Chapter with all the Oral (chapter 2)

Commander Kaidan Alenko woke up with former Commander Estrella Shepard in his bed. His dream had followed him into the daylight.

3. Wait! There's no Smut in this one! (chapter 3)

Get a grip on yourself, you’ve faced worse than this.

4. Master(bation) & Cummander (chapter 4)

Shepard was too busy watching to help Kaidan clean up their breakfast. She spent so long drinking in that stupid picture, and here was the real living, breathing thing.

5.  Interlude (chapter 5)

Well, this wasn’t good.

6. There's Two Porns in this One, Guys (chapter 6)

Kaidan was waking up next to her a second time.

7.  Just Take Care (chapter 7)

Shepard came back from the bathroom dressed in the spacer outfit she’d arrived in, viciously missing the comfort of Kaidan’s underclothes. He’d gotten up and started pacing when she left the room. She walked up to him and froze there.

“ME4: Aftermanth” [AO3] 

✨ post-OT ✨

8.  Major Kaidan Alenko was familiar, too familiar, with the feeling of cold steel in his hands, but nothing ever froze between his fingers like the plaque he now gripped tightly. It was engraved with the name of his favorite person.

“Breaking Regs” [AO3] 

✨ post-ME1 ✨

9.  For one horrendous moment he’d thought he lost her. They’d saved the day, but he couldn’t see her on the other side. There was only debris, Liara, himself, and their shock.

“Hanar Hats for the Birthday at the End of the World” [AO3] 

🚀 during ME3 🚀

10. “Happy birthday!” Shepard cheered, chucking something small and pink his way, “Put this on!”

Patterns: Ok I tend to do a few things. 

I like using full names with titles as an introduction. 

I like starting in the middle of action. 

All my fics have one or two sentences for an opening paragraph/line. 

I don’t spend a lot of time describing anything. I offer a glimpse, if anything. I seem to like to set things up so readers have questions.

It doesn't work, it never works, but you feel like it helps, even when you know it makes it worse. You sit still and let life go on around you as your parents yell and ground you and you take it out on yourself the next day and you hate yourself because you're not strong enough to deal with your bullshit without upsetting someone.

And God did you take it out on yourself hard.

You don't think you've ever done this many in one sitting. You arms sting and your chest is screaming at you and all you can do is breath through sobs and pretend you've got your life under control that you're not alone and you really fucking miss John even thought you just saw him earlier at school. You don't want to call him. You don't want to text him. You think he's sick of you. In fact you're about ninety-nine percent sure he doesn't even like you anymore, and you feel like he hates you.

And thinking of this makes you reach for your phone, call him and sob to him while he tries to calm you down from so far away. You tell him that he probably hates you and he tells you he doesn't and you tell him you relapsed and he gets so quiet you can hear his stomach dropping and there's a vicious nagging in the back of your head yelling at you, telling you he's going to dump you right there because no one wants a fucked up boyfriend.

You're like a broken toy and no kids want to play with you, a Barbie doll that got her hair cut off by a five year old with scissors or a G.I. Joe with no legs, and he doesn't want to play with you, you don't even want to play with you.

But he stays on the phone with you. He talks to you and tells you to breathe, he brings you down from hyperventilation enough for you to listen to him as he tells you to go clean the cuts. He keeps you calm while you throw your bloodied sheets into the washing machine and he never once yells at you or tells you to grow up. He doesn't say that you're just looking for attention and he tells you he loves you.

He stays on the phone with you until it's late and he has to sleep. He tells you he loves you again and you hang up before he can hear you cry again. You're so utterly alone in your room and you feel like you're simply going to rot away in there while you try to convince yourself that John means what he says. Fuck he has to mean what he says., if he doesn't... You force yourself not to think about it.

The door opens and you curl in on yourself. It's probably Mom or Dad and you tug on the sleeves of your sweater because if they saw... But when you finally are approached it's not your parents, it's just Dirk. He asks you why you're so sad and it brings a pause to your harsh sniffles as he tilts his head and leans on the edge of your bed.

“Go back to sleep, Dirk.” Your voice cracks, and you swallow it down.