or he just felt obligated to protect her

Here, have a Jack- and Jazz-centric almost-reveal Danny Phantom ficlet, focused on Phantom’s capture.


“Dad, no!” Jazz screamed.

Jack Fenton jumped and turned, but the damage was already done; the Fenton Bazooka’s trajectory had altered when she’d startled him, and instead of stopping him from shooting, she’d corrected his aim.

Jazz was out of breath even before the tiny body dropped out of the sky like a stone, but she kept running long after it crashed into the fountain. She stumbled down the grassy knoll to the path, using gravity to keep her feet moving even as the stitch in her side burned. She had to…had to get….

“Jazzy-pants, what’s gotten into you?” Jack asked as she careened past. He reached out to catch her arm, and she couldn’t evade him quickly enough. She sagged forward, but he held her upright. “You’re not carrying a weapon.”

She didn’t need a weapon. She just needed to get to Danny. She tried to break her father’s grip, but he wasn’t about to let her go. He might want his children to be interested in ghost hunting, but he also wanted them to be safe.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh or weep at the irony of that.

“Just stay behind me,” he said, pulling her back. “You don’t want to give the ghost any more opportunities to trick you than it already has.”

Than he already has. But it wasn’t the time for that argument. Not now. “Dad—” Her voice cracked as he pulled out the Fenton Ecto-Cuffs. “Dad, you can’t.”

“Nonsense! I just need to slap these babies on that ghost before it recovers enough to fight back.” He brandished the handcuffs and grinned at her.

And then he ignored her protests as he turned to capture his own son, her brother, just because he thought she was misguided in her belief that Phantom was the good guy.

Keep reading

The Choices We Make - Part Five

The Choices We Make
MadaSaku

Part one
Part Two

Part Three
Part Four

Part Five

The scent of something warm and savory stirred Sakura’s senses and roused her from her sleep. She pressed her face further into her pillow as she chased her lingering dream but the delicious smell teased her nose again, effectively pushing the last traces of her fantasy from her mind.

A sleepy smile turned the corners of her mouth up as the muffled clinking of a pan from the kitchen down the hall reached her ears. She already knew who her early-morning intruder was even without having to sense their chakra, and a warmth surged through her starting in her chest and spreading to her fingers and toes at the familiar presence. It wasn’t the first time he had broken into her apartment in the last few weeks and she very seriously doubted it would be the last, not that she ever voiced any complaints anymore.

After allowing herself another minute of laziness, Sakura kicked her sheets away and slipped out of bed. She stifled a yawn as she left her bedroom to pad down the hall to where the pleasant scent was originating from. The soft tinkling of utensils being rummaged through echoed from the main living area and Sakura entered the room just as Madara closed a drawer and returned to the stove top.

Fish was frying in a pan, its mouthwatering flavor audible by the crisp sizzle as it cooked. It overlapped with the bitter scent of coffee, causing her stomach to rumble faintly in anticipation but she didn’t immediately move forward as she paused in the doorway.

Madara’s movements were effortless as he maneuvered about her tiny kitchenette, having become comfortable in the confined space over the course of the last few weeks. With a practiced hand, he retrieved seasonings from the pantry and checked the fish in the skillet before he pulled plates from the cabinet and chopsticks from the drawer. Silently she leaned against the door frame, a tender expression lining her features, as she watched him work flawlessly.

Six weeks ago, she would have never believed she would be standing here with this man in such a domestic setting. He had seen her at her worst and stuck with her through everything, including a fit of rage that had ended with her favorite mug shattered against the wall and ANBU standing on her doorstep. Emotionally, it had been the hardest night after her surgery, but also a turning point as she awoke some hours later to find her cup pieced back together and Madara lounging on her couch with a book in hand. She hadn’t been able to voice her apology at the time but Madara had accepted her into his arms all the same. It was then she knew for certain he was there out of desire rather than responsibility.

It was the only explanation why he kept coming back, why he continued to break into her apartment every morning to make her breakfast, why he found her for lunch or dinner whenever he didn’t have clan obligations to see to. Somewhere along the way, his presence had become something for her to look forward to and no matter what her day had made her suffer through, he brought a smile to her face. Some nights she wished he wasn’t such a gentleman and would stay with her if only just so she could stay in the protective circle of his arms where she felt safe from the cruel realities of the world.

“You slept well,” Madara said as he pulled her favorite green mug from the cabinet.

His teasing tone reached her ears as he filled the cup with coffee and added just enough cream and sugar to sweeten it just the way she liked. Sakura was comfortable enough with him to feel no shame in her current sleepwear and unabashedly she ran her fingers through her messy hair before she pushed off the doorway and accepted the mug from him. Her fingers lightly traced over the cracks and grooves she had made those weeks ago.

“I did,” she countered playfully, her smile softening as Madara swept a stray hair out of her face before he returned to the stove.

Sakura followed him, eyeing the miso soup and rice he had laid out as well before she cocked her brow. “You know you don’t have to keep making me breakfast.”

Madara glanced up at her briefly before he flipped the fish. “Then who would ensure you ate properly?”

She laughed lightly and refrained from reminding him that between the two she was the medic before she sipped from her mug.

“Besides,” Madara continued, “I enjoy cooking and it is a good excuse to step away from the clan.”

“Oh, I see. Using me to flee from your elders, are you?” she teased.

There was some truth in her words but she had spoken without malice and Madara shot her a vaguely amused look before he paused in his plating to push a square, brown box towards her. “Hatake stopped by earlier and left these for you. He departed for a mission this morning but is expected back by tomorrow evening.”

Immediately she straightened upon sight of the plain but familiar package and she flipped the lid open to find a handful of chocolate covered pastries. They were her favorite - a fact her old sensei knew well - and without pause Sakura picked up one of the treats and took a large bite.

Silky, buttery dough mixed with milky chocolate and she groaned in appreciation before she held out the treat to Madara. He didn’t share Sakura’s sweet tooth but he indulged her nonetheless by swiping some of the frosting from the corner with his finger before he continued preparing their meal.

“How did your meeting with your elders go yesterday?” Sakura asked as he finished plating.

A dejected sigh pressed out of Madara’s nose and he eyed her briefly before he picked up their dishes and placed them on her small dining table. “As expected. They are adamant on further branching the clan within different aspects of the village; a fact I have told them is difficult while they insist we increase the number of members stationed within the Military Force and ANBU.”

“Tell them to send some members with decent chakra control my way. I’ll train them,” she offered. “We’re always short-staffed and could do with more medics.”

Madara gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment before he nodded. “That would be beneficial for all of us. I will suggest that to them. Thank you.”

Sakura flashed him a smile before she lifted her coffee mug to her lips, happy to have helped - even if only a bit.

In their time together, Madara had opened up to her little by little. He still kept his most private dealings with his clan to himself, but on occasion he would discuss his frustrations and discontent with his elders’ desires for their people as they continued to press their traditional ideals upon Madara. It was mostly trivial things and general knowledge most shinobi already knew, but she was always left feeling a little lighter and content that Madara was comfortable enough to share his personal thoughts with her.

“And what about you?” Sakura asked after she had finished her pastry. “Are they still hounding you for an heir?”

“Of course,” Madara said as he returned to retrieve some chopsticks. “But they have been doing so for a number of years now and I expect them to continue to do so until I oblige.”

Sakura licked the chocolate that had stuck to her fingertips before she shot him a look. “I’ve told you before that you can tell them about the miscarriage if it will get them off your back.”

“And I have told you before that I am not going to do that,” Madara countered calmly. There was no exasperation in his voice but his tone was firm, relaying just how unwavering he was on the subject. “What happened to us is personal and no one’s business but our own. I will not use it as leverage to gain pity from my elders and I will not allow you to put yourself in that position.”

Sakura frowned. They had already had the same conversation before, and again she wanted him to understand she could handle herself. Having been under Tsunade’s tutelage for a number of years, she was well-versed in village politics, but she let her argument slide. She wanted to enjoy their morning.

Humming noncommittally, she sipped from her coffee mug again before she reached for another pastry. Her fingers had barely grazed the treat when Madara turned around again and fixed her with a pointed stare. “Stop eating those. You are going to ruin your appetite and you are going to need energy today.”

Sakura ducked her head, feeling much like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. She flashed him placating smile before she grabbed her mug and joined him at her table. “Why? What’s today?”

“Today, we are sparring.”

“We are?” she asked curiously as she reached for the chopsticks he had laid out for her.

Madara gazed at her briefly before he reached for the soy sauce. “You have not sparred since your surgery. You told me yesterday that you have been out of pain for a few weeks now and Hokage-sama has confirmed that you are fully recovered. It is time you get back into practice.”

“Well that’s hardly fair,” she teased as she reached for her soup. She fought the wide grin that was threatening to break out across her face as she cocked her brow at Madara. It seemed he was still determined to help her get back on her feet. “You spar almost every day.”

“I will go easy on you.”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a daring smile. “I am going to make you regret saying that so badly.”

Madara smirked as a challenging light entered his dark orbs but he didn’t answer as he sipped his soup.

They slipped into a comfortable silence but it was short-lived as Sakura finally tasted the fish he had prepared for them. A pleased groan sounded low in her throat as its lightly seasoned flavor and buttery texture melted on her tongue. Sakura used to pride herself on being a decent cook but after tasting Madara’s dishes, hers were like cardboard in comparison. He thoroughly spoiled her. She doubted she could ever eat a meal prepared by her hand after this.

“This is so good,” she mumbled around her mouthful.

Across the table, Madara’s expression relaxed as he smiled faintly. “I am pleased you enjoy it.”

“If you ever give up the shinobi life, you should become a chef. Or a stay-at-home husband. You’d be perfect!”

“That is my intention.”

Sakura slowly stilled as his meaning gradually sunk in. She flickered her gaze up to meet his and she swallowed the rest of her mouthful thickly as a feeling she couldn’t quite name slipped under her ribcage and made it harder to expand her lungs. Madara was watching her closely with a softness in his gaze she had seen before but hadn’t fully understood until now. Its meaning was suddenly so clear and her heart pounded against her breastbone as she was faced with this abrupt truth.

Under his unwavering gaze, her words escaped her. He had never looked more devastatingly handsome than in that moment as the normally hard edges of his expression softened from an emotion she didn’t dare name just yet.

“W-what?” she finally stuttered.

“Do not panic. I do not mean right now,” Madara told her calmly. “Neither of us are quite ready to make vows and until we are both certain of our affections towards each other, we should not take that step. However, I do care a great deal for you and it is my intention to court you, if you would find that agreeable.”

Sakura shook her head slowly. “If this is because of the miscarriage, you don’t owe me-.”

“This is not about the miscarriage,” he interrupted not unkindly. He slipped into the chair beside her until the table no longer separated them and he angled himself to face her fully. “We have been through much together in recent weeks. It is not uncommon for emotions to get muddled in the stress and turmoil of it all, but I do not believe that is the case. I care a great deal for you.” Genuine affection colored his tone and Sakura melted under his light touch as he cupped her face. His thumb traced the smooth curve of her cheekbone as he held her gaze steadily. “It would bring me great joy if you allowed me the opportunity to court you.”

A soft sigh passed her lips and her eyes slipped closed as she leaned into his touch. This wasn’t the first time Madara had revealed his gentler side to her, but it was the first time he had done so so openly, and the tenderness he was displaying warmed her down to her very soul. She thought she might burst with joy.

Madara was right in that they had been through a trying ordeal together. They had butted heads, and argued and yelled and hurt together; but they had also found solace in the other and some resemblance of peace. Emotions had been high and it was easy for the lines to get blurred between what was commiseration and what was real, but the riptide that had been their life after her surgery had calmed to a slow, rolling sea some time ago and her feelings were as clear to her as though she were looking at them through still water.

“Yes,” Sakura murmured. She opened her eyes again as she reached up to rest her hand over the one still cradling her jaw. “Yes, I would like that.”

The corners of Madara’s mouth stretched into a tender smile and before Sakura could consider what she was doing, she leaned forward and kissed him. He stilled against her mouth but the initial surprise faded quickly and he kissed her back before she could withdraw from him.

It was their first kiss since their shared night in the Hokage’s Tower, but this time there was no cloudy haze of lust dulling their judgment and controlling their actions; only affection as Madara used the hand on her jaw to angle her face while the other slipped to the back of her neck. His fingers tangled into her hair but his grip wasn’t dominant or commanding as his mouth moved with hers, touching and tasting as if he had all the time in the world.

Sakura grasped his forearm to steady herself and she moaned quietly at the power and strength under her fingertips. It was thrilling to have such a dangerous shinobi who could make even the best cower in his presence display so much restraint and tenderness, and it wasn’t long before the familiar trickle of heat began to pool in the pit of her stomach.

She wanted to feel him, wanted to remember what his skin felt like pressed hotly against hers, but before she could slip into his lap, Madara pulled away. A disappointed whine echoed in her throat and her eyes opened to find him smirking teasingly. But there was desire burning in the depths of his obsidian gaze and she swallowed thickly as she willed the pulsing heat to die from between her legs. It wouldn’t do well for them to start the same way they had before.

“We should finish breakfast,” Madara said, even as his fingers lingered against her skin. “We will want to spar before it becomes too hot.”

Reluctantly Sakura released her grip on his arm before she picked up her chopsticks once more. If they weren’t going to slip into bed together, she supposed a sparring match was the next best option. “I’m going to beat you into the ground.”

An amused smirk passed his face and he reached for his plate before he settled it on the table where he sat in his new spot beside her - exactly where she wanted him to be.

“I look forward to it.”

end

A little Shore Leave

Shepard and her crew had spent about three days on Feros in total and after that mission ended it was time for some shore leave. Shepard didn’t think this was the time for such a thing- but Adam’s down in the drive core insisted. After she thought about it, a checkup wouldn’t hurt anyone. Plus, it was Jokers birthday that weekend.

She really could use a few days break after the non-stop missions they’d had. The stress of it all weighing down on her a bit. She always had insomnia, but this was something else. Shepard found herself laying in bed every night staring at her ceiling. The minutes blurred into hours and night after night she grew more restless. After every mission she had new bruises and scars. Each one telling it’s own story. And the difficulty to find peace in her bed crept further away. She really did need a break, her body needed the break.

When the Normandy arrived at the Citadel a few days later the crew started to disperse and Shepard had no idea what to do with herself. How could she relax knowing what was coming? After all that she had seen so far? All of her thoughts had been on the mission. Reapers, Saren and the geth… sometimes during those sleepless nights she even found herself thinking about Garrus…

Shepard stood on the docking bay outside of the Normandy saluting, waving and hugging off her crew members for the weekend. Garrus waited by the elevator watching her. He could see how each crew member had a different relationship with Shepard, and they were all personalized and unique. Shepard knew everyone on that ship. She knew their service history, details about their families… their hopes, dreams and fears. But it wasn’t just that she felt obligated to know them, Shepard was genuinely interested in them all. Garrus remembered her saying that knowing her crew made her stronger. It gave her something to fight for.

She really is incredible. Beautiful.

Wait a minute. Incredible? Beautiful? He couldn’t remember the last time he had referred to anyone with such high regard. Garrus never really had time for relationships and it’s not like he had a thing for humans… He had heard about the fetishes but he never found one attractive. Well, not until Shepard.

Garrus thought about how protective he was of her, all those long nights learning each other. The way she smiled at him. That smile that was only his…It didn’t matter what sleep deprived thoughts he was having in that moment only one thing really mattered: she was human, and he was turian.

Even if it wasn’t weird for the obvious reasons he could think of multiple other reasons it couldn’t happen. She was his superior. His boss. His Commander. Maybe that should have been higher up the list of problems in his fantasy… Whatever he was feeling was nothing, a momentary lapse. Shepard was his best friend. He cared for her deeply and in those couple months she had been a better friend to him than anyone he had ever known.

He thought about how Shepard had kept her word and helped him track down Dr. Saleon. Once he saw the doctor he’d been tracking all reason went out the window: he wanted blood. She had seen the look in his eyes, ordering him to stand down. Garrus respected her too much to disobey a direct order, so reluctantly he complied. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew she was right.

Killing Dr. Saleon would solve nothing. It wouldn’t bring those people back. I wouldn’t undo all the time Garrus spent tracking him. But if they took him in they could get some information; about the hostages, what he had been up to… anything. They didn’t know what the doctor had been doing, or if he had been harvesting organs again somewhere else. Had he got himself into a bigger mess they didn’t know about under his new allies Dr. Heart? Garrus knew he would be more useful to them alive. It didn’t end up mattering in the end though, Dr. Saleon refused to go into custody and ended up dying anyway.

What was the point of this… he had ended up dead like he had wanted. Why couldn’t he have just killed him at the start before he had a chance to try and run again? He would never forget what Shepard said in response,

Garrus… You can’t predict how people will act. But you can control how you’ll respond. In the end… that’s all that really matters.’  Shepard had been right. Again.

Working with her really had been eye opening for Garrus. Shepard had seen the path he was headed down before he even did… A path not that different from Saren’s actually. In that moments Garrus watched her, he realized what this had all been about. It had been about saving him. Shepard didn’t care about Dr. Saleon. She cared about him. She had been trying to stop him from turning into someone he would hate.

‘I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Shepard.’ Garrus had told her that day. He didn’t realize how true that was until now. Until he noticed the way the lights above her illuminated her hair and emerald eyes. Until he noticed how beautiful every little dot was on her nose and cheeks. How beautiful she really was.  

On the docking bay Shepard noticed him watching her. She glanced over and held up one delicate finger, that smile trickled her lips and she mouthed ‘One minute.’  He nodded back at her, mandibles lose against his face. That’s when he noticed Joker standing next to him. How long had he been there…

Joker stood fairly straight but you could see caution in his eyes. You sorta had to live your life cautiously with a disease like the one Joker had. Garrus didn’t know much about the pilot, but he respected him and enjoyed exchanging a good joke or two from time to time. Joker looked from Shepard and then back to Garrus. He had a certain look in his eyes, one that made Garrus feel strange. In the awkwardness of the moment Garrus shifted his wait uncomfortably. The smallest smile slipped the corner of Jokers mouth, but he quickly cleared his throat and coughed into his fist.

“Garrus.” Joker let out still holding back his smile, that look still behind his eyes. He turned and walked away joining Liara, Tali and Presley in the elevator down.

Shepard had finally finished her temporary goodbyes and walked straight up to Garrus.

“So, a turian on shore leave… You come here often?” Shepard smiled and nudged him as they waited for their ride down to C-Sec having just missed the last one.

“Oh yeah… I come here often. Good place to blow off steam. Scenery’s not bad either…” Garrus looked at her for a second then nudged over his shoulder to the Normandy slyly. His voice cooed his usual soft hum mandibles flaring playfully.

Why was everything so much easier when she was with Garrus? She felt like she could handle anything if he was with her. No matter how big or small the mission she could do it if he were by her side. Shepard felt the guilt of taking a break in the middle of all this lift, like a weight off her shoulders. Garrus and Shepard spent the afternoon finding new models, talking about guns and trying different foods on the Citadel. They couldn’t share anything but it was nice to just pretend to be normal for a few hours. They deserved this, didn’t they?

The three day weekend came and went faster than they hoped, and before they knew it they only had one more night before it was back to hunting rogue Spectres and saving the galaxy. So naturally, it was time to party, it was a great excuse to celebrate Joker’s birthday.

The crew met at Flux Night club in the Wards for drinks and one last hurrah before they had to see this mission through. Garrus found himself recalling a conversation he’d had with Shepard when they first met-

This mission won’t be easy. There will be casualties. I won’t insult you by pretending you don’t understand what that means.’ He knew what she had meant then, but it had a new meaning for him now. Was this really it… would this be the last break they’d get. Would they all make it after they found Saren? Would Shepard make it?

Of course she would. She’s Shepard.

Garrus stood at the bar with Joker who wore some kind of paper cone on his head, Tali and one of the Alliance crew members he didn’t know… Alan maybe? He found himself glancing at the door every few minutes. Shepard wasn’t there yet, and he wondered what she had been up to. Garrus hadn’t seen her since the night before and found the anticipation of waiting building. He took a drink of his Dextro Heat Sink, a drink he enjoyed for the obvious play on words. Honestly, it didn’t taste that great.

Scanning the room again for her red hair, for her scent. When he felt a touch on the shoulder he smiled. When he turned however, he wasn’t greeted by Shepard but a female turian. He should have known, he couldn’t smell Shepard anywhere. The female in front of him had softer features than his own and she had deep purple markings down her nose and mouth with two small dashes under either eye on her cheekbones. She was very pretty by turian standards.

“Can I buy you another one of those?” The turian asked sweetly pointing to his drink. Her flanging was soft and smooth. Garrus looked at his almost empty glass and back at the turian.

“Sure, but only if I can buy you one first.” Garrus said back. He had always been charming and good with words, he knew this. If this was his last night on the Citadel he may as well have a little fun right? When she smiled he took this as a yes and asked what she was drinking.

Shepard finally had made her way into Flux. She was running late of course after picking up a brand new Spectre requisition sniper riffle for Garrus. She was nervous for some reason; she didn’t usually give gifts, and this was REALLY expensive. But she had more credits than she knew what to do with, and he really needed a new gun. She felt the pounding of the techno echo through her chest and her palms started to sweat.

What the fuck, you’re Commander Shepard. Keep it together

She scanned the room for her crew, but mostly she as looking for Garrus. When she saw him though, she wished she hadn’t.

Several minutes passed and Garrus took another look around the room. He saw Shepard standing near the entrance of the club looking at them. She had no expression. No indication of what she was thinking or feeling. She just stood there, watching the two of them. Shepard hadn’t moved an inch since she entered Flux a few minutes before. She was too far away and there were far too many people in the club to get a proper read from his visor.

In the minutes before he noticed her though, she had been watching them. The way they interacted. They stood close, and she could tell by the lightness of the turians face that she meant business. She couldn’t tell how Garrus was reacting, but a smile from the female let her know he probably meant business too…

He did mention blowing off steam didn’t he…

Lost in thought she hadn’t realize he had seen her gaze. Shepard felt her stomach drop and she immediately felt sick. She threw him a quick smile, not the real one he was used to… Then turned to joined Liara at a table where she sat with Kaidan.

Garrus noticed the smile Shepard had given him as he watched her walk away. He didn’t know where she had gone, but he instantly felt strange. This wasn’t normal. Why would she give him that look? He found himself staring at the spot his Commander stood moments before. That’s when he noticed the female looking up at him expectantly feeling her arm on his elbow.

“So… I’m Nayla… How about that drink?” She asked again sweetly.

How long had been been off in his own mind? How long had be been standing there silently with this stranger… staring at the empty spot Shepard had been. Garrus forced a smile, trying to relax his mandibles he nodded. In a slow turn, he ordered them both another round. Even with a pretty distraction he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Shepard did her best to push the feeling she had in her stomach to the side. She sat with her back to the bar as not to be tempted to watch Garrus and his date. What did she care if he was finding himself a nice lady to shack up with anyway… She didn’t know why, but all of a sudden she really needed to get drunk. Really drunk. Like, ‘I just stopped 10,000 batarian’s from taking over Elysium’ drunk or maybe ‘I have feelings for my uninterested turian squamate’ drunk…

Of course, Kaidan was eager to cater to Shepard and took the absence of Garrus as a sign that he could. Finally Garrus wasn’t with her, so he could have some alone time. Well… Sorta, Liara was with them. Kaidan didn’t mind Liara though, but it was hard not to notice how awkward she was. Having spent most her time alone working on dig sites really did a number on Liara’s social skills. Surprisingly, despite Shepard having indirectly killed her mother, Liara seemed to be just as infatuated with the Commander as everyone else was.

“Can I get you anything to drink, Shepard?” Kaidan asked a little louder, having realized she couldn’t hear his soft voice over the booming of the music and patrons.

“Yes. Whiskey. Double.” She said. “Can you order me a couple?”

“You sure you want to be getting drunk the day before we head back out, Commander?” Kaidan joked standing.

“That’s exactly why I want to be getting drunk. Plus it’s Joker’s birthday… that’s why we’re even here remember? Buy him one while you’re at it.” Shepard smiled as he walked to the bar. “So, Liara. How are you enjoying yourself?” She tried desperately to distract herself from what she had seen. But no matter what she couldn’t stop thinking about it…What had she even seen though? Nothing. Not really.

Garrus was just standing there talking to a girl. As he should be. He is allowed to talk to females of his OWN species. Why do you even care? He deserves a break… to have fun, or be able to ‘blow off steam’ like everyone else. What is it to you?

When she couldn’t think of anything satisfying to tell herself, she decided it was time to suck it up. Shepard was just being protective because they were such good friends. Yeah, that was it…

When Kaidan returned with an armful of drinks for the 3 of them, she saw Joker lift his new drink in a distant cheer. Shepard returned the gesture downing her whiskey. Biting back the alcohol taste that stung her throat and burned her nose, she reached for the second one and knocked it back. Licking her lips she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, setting the empty glass in front of her. Shepard had seen Kaidan and Liara notice her but didn’t react. The two of them exchanged a look and then began drinking as well.

“Do… you want me to get you another one, Shepard?” Kaidan asked when he saw her staring into the empty glasses she had just lined up evenly.

“I got this one. Are you guys ready? I’m buying. I plan on getting Joker very wasted tonight.” The look they sent her indicated they weren’t ready. How could they be? She was the one trying to drink her feelings away, not them.

“Hopefully not too wasted, we do need him functional.” Kaidan laughed taking a sip trying to catch up.

Kaidan just returned no more than 3 minutes before with their drinks. They nodded anyway, what are they gonna deny the Commander the right to buy them all a round? Plus they at least had 10 minutes with the lines that were at the bar. After another minute Shepard turned and walked up to order them another round of drinks. She could already feel the warmth swimming through her belly and tickling her mind. Shepard walked to the opposite end from Garrus when she approached. He hadn’t noticed her yet, thankfully. She ordered another two whiskey doubles, a beer for Kaidan and a honey mead for Liara. She tried buying Joker another but was told to get in line- everyone’s goal was to get the birthday boy wasted. While she waited for their drinks she couldn’t stop herself from watching Garrus interact with the female turian.

She watched him shift his weight effortlessly, running his taloned hand down his fringe and neck in a elegant stretch. He had a confidence about him; one she always admired. Shepard had noticed in the past the looks he’d gotten- she was aware just how attractive he was to most women, no matter the species. She noticed he way the turian leaned into him and the lightness of her mandibles when she spoke. Shepard wondered what Garrus’ face had looked like… Did he look as happy as that female did?

What do you care?

Realizing the bartender has been speaking to her. When she came back to reality she paid the Volus, grabbed their drinks and began retreating.

Garrus could smell her though and turned just as she did- narrowly missing her eyes. He watched her crimson hair bounce away from the bar as she disappear into the bodies of the club goers.

As the night went on, Shepard drank more. It was safe to say that she was very drunk. She was really drunk. Actually, they had lost count of how many drinks she had over the course of the night. That many double whiskeys could even take the great Commander Shepard down. She sat at the table with Liara and Kaidan, the two of them also fairly drunk at this point in attempts to keep up. Kaidan had been non stop flirting with Shepard and given the circumstances she even flirted back. Hell, Liara even tried in her awkward way.

“I would LOVE to have you in a lab to study, Shepard… You are just so incredible… No.. wait… tha-that’s not what I meant to say… I just meant, with all of your Prothean knowledge due to your contact with the beacon, and the cipher- Oh! Just imagine everything we could learn from each other! Oh… oh no… I am just making this worse aren’t I… I must to apologize…” Liara was rambling taking anxious swigs of her mead.

Shepard didn’t mind though, the rambling was rather adorable honestly and proved a great distraction. They talked and laughed about anything they could that didn’t have to do with Saren, the geth or the Reapers. As the night progressed Shepard even considered taking one of them back to her room with her…

But like all night’s this one was coming to an end. Shepard watched as her crew trickled out one by one making their way back to the Normandy. Both Liara and Kaidan still sat drinking with her. She wondered if they both secretly hoped they’d be the one to go home with her that night… Who would she chose?

Tough choice really. One is obsessed with you because of your connection to the Prothean beacon and the other is obsessed with you because you saved them from the Prothean beacon…

Probably best not to go home with either of them now that she thought about it.

It was getting close to 0200 hours when Garrus finally walked up to their table. Shepard noticed him approaching in her peripheral — he was alone. She swallowed down the rest of her drink, biting her lip shifting in her seat. In that moment she realized she really had been drinking a lot.

Garrus placed a warm taloned hand on her shoulder leaning down besides her. She looked sideways at him still holding her empty glass, her leg shaking restlessly. He didn’t say anything, but held his mandibles close to his face staring into her eyes. With her free hand she pulled it to her mouth and began lightly biting her nail; a nervous habit she hadn’t done in years. Shepard felt his sharp blue gaze still looking at her. She felt a warmth from him run through her. Was this the alcohol or Garrus? No one at the table spoke and Garrus noticed her breath quicken and her heartbeat rising on his visor.

“How nice of you to join us, Garrus.” Shepard smiled, it was almost right…

“Shepard…” He purred so softly that the others at the table couldn’t hear him.

Garrus reached his free hand out placing it over hers and the empty glass, holding them both in place. Kaidan and Liara had been watching them, but neither of them said anything. Desperately trying to eavesdrop. With the hand that rest on her shoulder he slid it closer to her face, brushing the side of her pink cheek with his thumb then tucking her hair behind an ear. It was ever so slight, Kaidan or Liara would for sure have missed it if they hadn’t been searching for it. Shepard swallowed and continued looking at the hand still holding hers around the empty glass.

“Come on. Lets get you out of this dump.” Garrus stood, sliding the empty glass from her delicate fingers; setting it on the table amongst the others.

She still sat looking at it. Everything felt light and somehow in slow motion. He reached a hand out in front of her and after a second she took it. Kaidan and Liara watched not saying a word as they turned and walked out of club. Once out of Flux Shepard remembered the female and spoke before she could stop herself.

“So… Mr. Vakarian…You seemed to be enjoying the ‘scenery’ inside. What happened to your new friend?”

“Spirits. Is that jealousy I hear, Commander Shepard?” Garrus joked looking at her.

“In your dreams, big guy.” She said back giggling and swaying with each step.

With each drunken step she felt herself forgetting about the girl he had been talking to. She was forgetting that this may be her last time on the Citadel. Oddly, all she could think about was how damn bright the Citadel was. Garrus had always rambled on about how it was never dark in there… But there was something about being in fluorescents that late when you were this hammered that made every task just so much harder.

Shepard tried walking upright, she really did. But every so often she would lose her balance and trip. They couldn’t help but laugh. Garrus had been drinking pretty heavily as well that night, but no where near the amount she had been. When her ‘feet stopped working’ Shepard fell down a small flight of stairs. How someone could be so graceful on the battlefield but so clumsy in the real world was beyond Garrus. She sat there at the bottom in a hysterical fit of laugher. Garrus was reminded again of just how beautiful she was, and seeing her there sobered him up just a bit. If she hadn’t been hurt Garrus would have been laughing with her honestly. It was pretty funny how she acted when she had been drinking. He had seen it a few times before on the Normandy, but she had never been THIS drunk.

He knelt down slipping a long arm under her, pulling her close to him. She stood with one arm around his neck, his right arm holding her tightly around the chest at her ribcage. The way his hand felt there… She couldn’t think about that now. They walked slowly side by side, as she limped in unison with his strides; making sure not to put pressure on her hurt ankle. It honestly didn’t even hurt her hardly- a mild sprain at best, but she was having fun pretending that it did.

Their walk was long and peaceful and Garrus could smell her skin. By the time they stood outside the Normandy on the docking bay he had been engulfed in her. It was more intoxicating than anything he drank that night. Her scent was better than anything he had ever smelled. Shepard’s skin was softer than anything he had touched. Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself close to her neck, taking a deep breath of lavender into his lungs. His mouth and nose lowered closer to her neck almost touching her with them. Garrus released his breath besides her ear, running his nose through her hair, tracing her hairline; she felt a wave run through her.

Shepard pushed into him more, turning to face him. She had an urgency about the way she leaned her head into his his cowl, closer to his face. Garrus could feel her shudder in his arms. Taking her free hand she placed it on his neck holding herself close to his mouth letting out a soft sigh. He reached down sliding his hand up her back, pulling her into him. His fingers braided through her hair. She let out a quiet gasp at his touch and he leaned into her neck pulling her even closer. Their faces were almost touching, breath hot and fast.

“Garrus…” Shepard said breathlessly as he felt something primal shift in him.

The way she had said his name made him burn for her, letting a small growl escape his lips. He had lost his composure. As if a switch was flipped they both were sent into a frenzy. She lifted a leg and was met with his hand pulling it onto his hip- pulling her onto him.

Simultaneously he lightly pulled her hair revealing her neck to him as he turned pushing her into the wall. Sliding his taloned hand from her knee to her thigh he helped her other leg wrap around him. Leaning his face into her neck, kissing it, running a blue tongue across it tasting her. Shepard let out a airy moan at his touch. The way he touched her with determination and strength was different than anything she had experienced. His lips were harder than a humans, but they felt amazing trailing her collarbone and shoulders. Garrus didn’t know where his behavior came from, he was just reacting to her. It was instinctual. He somehow just knew how to touch her.

Garrus grabbed her hand sliding it up the wall holding it in place as he moved his face to hers again. They looked at each other for a moment and then she kissed him hard. She never imagined that feeling him like this would feel so right, but it did. With each embrace she could feel the growling in his chest growing, his desire and control slipping. She ached for him.

Shepard lightly caressed his tongue with her own, tasting him. Garrus slid a hand down her arm, down the side of her body ending at her hips. He pulled her into him more as they continued frantically kissing and pushing into each other as if they could never be close enough.

As fast as it started it was over. They heard the elevator arriving and quickly realized where they were. They had been on the docking bay outside of the Normandy almost… almost… could they even? This can’t be normal… He lightly slid her down to the ground careful not to release her completely. Garrus couldn’t bare not feeling her after that. Everything was going to be different now… He felt it.  

“Well, look at you two being creepy and stuff in a dark corner.” Joker let out walking past them with Tali towards the airlock. Tali had been mumbling at a volume they couldn’t understand, clearly she also had a bit too much to drink. Joker looked back at the two standing there in silence. “You guys coming or what?”

Helping Shepard over to the Normandy and when Joker noticed her foot he signed. “Really, Commander? You can’t go a few days without getting yourself hurt?”

“You sure you wanna mess with me? You’re basically made of glass, Joker. I could probably break your bones just by looking at you.” Shepard laughed as the decontamination process started.

Shepard was trying hard not to think about what had just happened. She looked up at Garrus shyly, her eyes were soft and heavy. He smiled down at her holding her tightly enjoying her warmth.

“Wow, you really are drunk aren’t you, Commander?” Joker asked when he saw how hard it was for her to walk straight even with Garrus leading her. “Here I was thinking the mighty Commander Shepard was unstoppable, a god among men— and women… Only to be taken out by a few drinks and a flight of stairs.”

The look she gave him let him know he was done and he put his arms up defensively.

“Alright, alright, I’m going. Sleep tight you two.” Joker said giving Garrus that same look from a few days ago. With a lazy salute he retreated to the cockpit.

Upon entering the doctor took one look at the Commander and Garrus and crossed her arms. The look she gave them was like they were a couple of kids that had just been caught sneaking out. Shepard covered her mouth and attempted to stand up straight. She was holding back a laugh. Shepard knew how obvious it had been that they were wasted but she didn’t want to show it if possible. Somehow though she only seemed to make herself look more guilty.

Shepard let out a long sigh shaking her head. “Doesn’t anyone sleep on this damn ship?”

“You. Med bay. Now, Commander.” Chakwas said with a small smile pointing to the stairs. “Garrus, I’ll need you to accompany us if you would.” Chakwas lead them down the stairs into the Normandy’s Med Bay.

He carefully sat her down on one of the beds. Shepard tucked a hair behind her ear, flinching when the doctor rotated her ankle checking the damage. A minor sprain like they suspected, nothing serious but she’d need to be careful on it for a couple days. FTL was fast, but she should have the time she needed.

“See? I told you. Not that bad. I just missed a few stairs, honestly I’ve had much worse. Remember that time I fell off a 2 story building?” Shepard reached an arm out placing it on Chakwas’ shoulder giving it a light shake.

She had her ankle wrapped for some extra support and Chakwas left Garrus in charge of escorting the Commander back to her quarters. As they approached the door it slid open allowing them to walk in. He walked her over to the bed where she laid down. Seeing her laying reminded him of that time back on Therum. Her hair spread around her like wildfire. She gave him a big pure smile reaching her arm out for him to take. Garrus stood there a moment looking down at his Commanding officer wondering if this was a good idea… Should he be there? They both had been drinking and Shepard seemed really vulnerable.

“Shepard… I…” He stated as he ran a hand over his fringe and down her neck the way she loved.

Shepard sat up at looked up at him. She grabbed a taloned hand in hers pulling him down to her level. Garrus kneeled in front of her looking at his feet. She moved her arm up slowly resting it on the side of his face softly.

“Hey. It’s okay. We don’t…” She stopped, biting her lip. The room was spinning slightly around him.

“I…  don’t want you to think you have to do this. I may be your Commanding Officer but I’m not gonna make you sleep with me.” Shepard let out a laugh removing her hand anxiously. “I’ve been drinking, you’ve been drinking… it’s been a long couple months…” She set her hands in her lap.

“It’s not that, Shepard. I just don’t know if this is the time for… whatever this is.” His voice was soft but his words still stung her and she felt an ache in her chest.

She looked down at her hands laying there limply in her lap. She began to wonder if she had gone too far. In a drunken stupor did she ruin her only true friendship? She never should have drank so much… She never should have kissed him. He probably didn’t even feel the same way about her… And was only reacting the way any man would in that situation. Shepard knew this was a bad idea, knew the possibilities… but that didn’t stop the way she was feeling about him. The way she had been feeling about him.

“I understand. You’re right.” Shepard said clearing her throat. “I don’t know what I was thinking… I’m sorry, Garrus.” She began to feel a little embarrassed and for a moment she wished none of this had happened.

“Jane… That’s not what I meant.” Reaching out a long taloned hand he pulled her chin to face him again.

Leaning closer to her, there was only a few inches between them now. He could see how fast her heart had been beating on his visor, how her body heat was rising. This had been one of the only times he had called her by her first name. She was surprised and in that moment she sobered up a bit. There was something jarring about hearing him purr her name like that. It scared her. It excited her.

He leaned forward resting his forehead against hers.

“Shepard. I… we can’t do this.” Garrus’ voice was soft.

“Why not?” Shep asked lightly closing her eyes.

“It’s just not the time, Shepard…”

She knew he was right. Getting involved further would complicate things. She could hardly believe she wanted him so badly. Being the person to always put duty first, and feelings second. But now, she wanted to say to hell with the rules. They had acted on their impulses and she couldn’t help but think that they already had taken things too far. She knew he was right though. If they did this they couldn’t go back. They already were dangerously close to the point of no return.

She nodded and leaning into him. They sat on the floor of her cabin propped against her bed. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. The silence surrounded them and for the first time in months she fell asleep with ease. For the first time in months she didn’t dream of the beacon.

Ps IM A NOOB SORRY IF AM BAD I TRY ;.; I’m used to writing editorial stuff so this was a fun challenge.

Shang tends to get exceeding tons of completely undeserved flack for either being too “prim and proper” or too human/emotional. Let me, in exceptionally intelligent and civilized terms, explain to you why the backlash he continually receives is completely unwarranted and holds no water.

When he, a young, admirably disciplined, dutiful man is left in charge of a bunch of seemingly useless probies Shang makes the most sincere and immense of an effort to make the best out of this situation, endeavoring to be a competent, skillful captain and leader. There is no single instance when he wouldn’t judge everyone in the army equally - it’s the abilities, patience, perseverance and diligence that matter to him, not class, privileges or initial physical form. Shang never disregards his responsibility towards the group and even though the men from the army are inclined to be irritatingly stubborn, shamelessly lazy and cling to every single opportunity they have at their disposal to procrastinate on their obligations he always considers it a personal failure and underachievement when they don’t manage to accomplish established goals. Or don’t reach the levels of professionalism and skill required to become capable soldiers and effectively protect their country.

When Shang realizes Ping is not fit to remain in the army let alone participate in battles he immediately instructs a frustration inducing amateur to go home. Mulan originally disguised herself as a man specifically to prevent her father from going to army and consequently - to a war he was not going to survive by any means. This outcome was highly possible despite the severity of her father’s physical condition because not every army leader is mindful and wise enough to notice or acknowledge whether a potential soldier is suited to fight in his current physical and/or psychological state.

Shang IS thoughtful and objective enough to perceive and recognize those things about Ping despite the fact that the latter is not restrained by any physical disabilities and “his” obstinate lack of skills and competence stems directly from a place of not investing enough devotion and determination into training. When Ping/Mulan legitimately starts doing just that, demonstrating eagerness to learn, evolve and excel that’s when Shang comes to value and rely on his best soldier.

It’s not the reveal of Mulan’s gender/gender identity that challenges and temporarily interferes with Shang’s ability to trust her but the fact that one of his soldiers betrayed his loyalty in the most unfortunate and unsettling (at least from Shang’s point of view) manner. Having been deceiving him all along and therefore compromising an enormously important and incredibly meaningful soldier/captain bond. Mutual reliance was sabotaged and for no reason other than because Mulan, by her own admission, fabricated her identity and lied to Shang in order to save her father and protect the latter from having to fulfill his duties at the expense of his safety and most likely his life. She says this right after Shang’s own father just died. Ironically, accepting the kind of fate Mulan managed to prevent hers from facing.

Understandably, Shang - who didn’t even afford himself so much as to grieve over his parent’s tragic demise because he felt obligated to maintain strict composure in front of his soldiers in order to not discourage or bring them down - is bitter and angry when confronted with admittedly shocking set of truths about someone he’s come to consider friend. Yet, he does not let bitterness and confusion get in a way of his unwavering nobility and honorable dignity hence sparing Mulan’s life and acting in accordance with his moral code and principles despite what the law dictates. He is unswervingly rule abiding and idealistic, however, when certain notions conflict with his own concepts of morality and ideology of life he doesn’t think twice before defying them.

Finally, after the incident at the palace, after being - reasonably - reluctant to trust Mulan again because of her elaborate artifice/posing as someone she wasn’t for a large chunk of time, after maturely and constructively working through the tension between them Shang is entirely and absolutely over his underlying morbidness (and remarkably, it only takes Shang few hours to overcome and move on from the aggravation and distress caused by his “friend”’s creative lying scheme. Because he comes to understand where Mulan was coming from despite how considerably her dishonesty hurt him on both a personal and professional level. He doesn’t hold it against her anymore and only allows himself to struggle for impressively short while and clear his head before slipping into action the second his duty and responsibility require it).

When Mulan’s worth and accomplishments are demeaned and belittled on base of her gender Shang is the first to confront this toxic and sexist mindset. While also letting Mulan independently handle the consequences of her decisions in front of a rational, analytical, experienced and insightful person that the Emperor is. As mentioned above, Shang happens to be the epitome of competence and never compromises or dismisses other people’s agency and abilities. Least of all - Mulan’s. And that’s exactly the type of individual she needs by her side, either as a platonic or romantic partner.

8

RIVER SONG MEME  // 1/7 episodes
 S06xE07: A GOOD MAN GOES TO WAR

It’s my birthday. The Doctor took me ice skating on the River Thames in 1814. The last of the Great Frost Fairs. He got Stevie Wonder to sing for me under London Bridge.

vs

The Doctor will find your daughter. And he will care for her, whatever it takes. And I know that.

anonymous asked:

Love your blog! i spent a good amount of time going through it! also I love your CM headcannons! They're freaking brilliant! Could you do some more based on Emily and Spencer? I have recently become a massive shipper for them!!! xx

This ship is growing on me too, anon (I blame em-ily-pren-tiss ssadrblake and crimnatic for their amazing posts, you fuckers!!) Here’s some headcanons about Prentiss and Reid my pretties:

  • A few months after Prentiss returned from the dead, her relationship was still fragile with Reid. One day after work she kidnapped him and they went back to her place to watch Solaris, something she’d really wanted to do the first time he asked, but obviously couldn’t. They had a great time, conversing in Russain, laughing (something either hadn’t done in awhile), and Prentiss loved hearing Reid excitedly ramble off movie trivia, which she really missed about him. Spencer sat with his arm around Emily, while she curled up at his side with her head on his chest, both just happy she was alive and here with him. After this, their friendship was effectively on it’s was to being mended.
  • Emily and Reid both know morse code. Sometimes, if they have hotel rooms right next to each other, they’ll tap out messages on the walls for fun. Or they’ll do it even if they’re on the jet just to annoy the fuck out of Morgan.

  • Reid can’t beat Prentiss at poker for shit and it confuses the hell out of him. The resident genius can’t figure figure out how the woman is so good at it! He’s done equations, statistics, probability—all sorts of math—and Emily still wins every time! She absolutely loves torturing him with this.
  • Reid wrote letters to Prentiss when she was “dead” (JJ recommended it to help him cope with her loss). He was planning on getting rid of them after she came back, but Emily found out and wanted to read them; she said it would help her understand what he felt better, and Reid obliged. It took her an entire weekend, but Prentiss tearfully read every single heartfelt message that Spencer poured his soul into. On Monday when she came back to work, Emily immediately went up to Reid and hugged him so tightly for a really long time, not wanting to let go. At first he resisted, but then hugged her back and they stayed like that for at least 10 minutes. Em was almost crying and apologizing to an emotional Reid while they just stood like that.

  • Reid goes into a protective frenzy when Prentiss is injured even more so than Derek or Hotch. He insists she has every scan, test, check-up, and often worriedly accuses the doctors of doing a terrible job, even sometimes checking her himself. Emily absolutely hates medical care, but complies because she thinks it’s charming and sweet that Spencer cares so much and hates seeing him upset.

  • Emily and Reid take Halloween VERY seriously. The rest of the team is only mildly interested (much to their dismay), but those two go full out. Their desks are always decked in hardcore decorations and both of them wear complimentary costumes while they walk around DC. One year it was Captain Mal Reynolds and Zoë Washburne. Some others were V and Evey, The Joker and Harley Quinn, Ozymandias and Laurie Jupiter, and even classic zombies!
  • The both of them are huge geeks. When he first met her, Reid would never have pegged Emily to be a giant nerd, but after getting to know her better he was ecstatic to find out her interests. Every couple weeks they have movie nights at their apartments filled with copious amounts of sci-fi/superhero fangirling. It’s nice not to have to hide that side of themselves when they’re with each other.
  • Emily helped Reid learn to shoot better. She has a lot of patience and could tell Spencer was frustrated so one weekend they went to the range and spent the whole day practicing while also joking around and having a great time. This is part of the reason Reid went there a lot after Prentiss died; it reminded him of when everything was perfectly ok.
  • Both of these dorks take their Hogwarts houses very seriously.
  • Prentiss heard about Maeve in a conversation with Hotch and flew in as soon as she had time off. Reid wouldn’t let anyone in his apartment, but when he heard “Spencer, it’s Emily open the goddamned door” he let her in straight away. Reid felt comfortable sitting with her and talking, probably because she’s such an easy person to be with and he knew she’d understand. Emily had lost people before, hell she had died herself. Prentiss convinced him to let the team help and that drugs were not the answer. They sat curled up on the floor for awhile while Emily stroked his hair (her just being there helped). After she left he thought about it and decided to take her advice. Reid would be forever grateful to have a friend like Prentiss.
  • Emily knew the answer once to something Reid didn’t and was literally so fucking proud of herself! Spencer was laughing at how excited she was (Prentiss told everyone at the office. Multiple times) and thought her amusement level at this was adorable.
  • On the jet after the standoff at the religious compound everyone was asleep except Prentiss and Reid. She thought their talk would straighten things out, but Reid still looked freaked out and guilty. He kept eying her over the edge of his book looking like a kicked puppy. Emily had enough of him feeling bad, so she got up, crawled into Reid’s lap, and latched onto him. Reid was highly confused and slightly afraid, but Prentiss just bear-hugged him and refused to get up until “He got it through his huge genius-ass brain that she was ALRIGHT and it WASN’T HIS FAULT”.
Murtagh/Fergus spoilery asks

HERE THERE BE SPOILERS FOR “DRAGONFLY IN AMBER”

Anonymous asked: Two questions ( I know I’m cheeky) 1. Do you think that Murtagh would exact revenge on BJR if he could and what shape do you think it would take? 2. What do you think was going through Jamie’s mind when he found Fergus with BJR? Was he having flashbacks? What made him ignore Claire’s plea to spare BJR life?

Hi anon - thanks for your question!

Re 1: You may want to read the back and forth in this earlier post between me, @ciamarathathu, @lenny9987, @two-hundredyears, and @loverjamie2. I believe that Murtagh exacted his revenge on Black Jack by administering a fatal blow at Culloden - only to be killed by Black Jack shortly afterward (assuming that it took a while for Black Jack to die). Murtagh swooped in to save Jamie from Black Jack - literally giving his life to avenge Jamie’s honor. We still don’t know the exact circumstances of Murtagh and Black Jack’s deaths - but memories of Culloden are trickling back to Jamie, so I think it’s only a matter of time before we know the true story.

Re 2: I think Jamie saw this as (yet again) failing to protect someone he loved - and felt obligated to protect - from Black Jack. He’d failed Jenny, his father, and Claire - and now Fergus. So between that, and absolute revulsion at what he saw, and the fact that the memories of Wentworth were still so fresh, he decided to take matters into his own hands - literally. He’s blinded by his desire for revenge that (uncharacteristically) he acts selfishly, going against what he’d told Claire he would do.

Did Jamie really think that Claire wouldn’t find out, or did he just not care what would happen when she found out? Is he acting with true disregard for her wishes? Is he fed up with having to deal with Frank? Is this a passive-aggressive way to express his feelings? This episode has always puzzled me. I’m not up to this point in my DIA re-read, but I’m sure I’ll have more to say once I get there.

A phrase I read, triggered a thought which triggered another. I blame free association for this entirely.

Or when Felicity takes matters into her own hands, sometime after the date which didn’t quite work out. Set in season three. 

You can in read it on A03 or below the cut.

“What are you thinking about?” Oliver asked, casting a sideways look at his blonde partner, laying on a grassy field next to him at two in the morning.

She didn’t answer straight away. 

“Kissing you.”

His eyebrows skyrocketed and he began to choke on the water he  swallowed after asking the question. The statement was so honest, unshadowed about what they should and shouldn’t do, so much in fact that he had almost trouble remembering the list of reasons why doing so was practically forbidden, until the image of her bloodied, on their date like a theatre curtain, plunged down in front of his eyes. He tossed the water bottle in his hand to the side.

“Felicity look, I-”

The words tumbling out of his mouth came to a sudden stop, and his gaze travelled down despite it being too dark to see anything. Her beringed hand, accessorized for the mission few hours earlier, slowly, blindly found his.

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