shepard KNOWS she's not going to come out of this alive

Why I think Jamie is cooler then Hornblower and Han Solo.

I am a 28 year old male and Outlander is happily my second favorite series, sorry Horatio was my first. =)
Appears there aren’t many male fans online and i was asked to throw something up. So here we go…

So originally I liked it because of the historical detail. I liked the time travel and the fish out of water. I was confused by the mushy stuff as I thought, I mean I was in middle school. So then I read book two and liked the scenes of Paris, of the court at Versailles and the battle obviously.

For the later ones I liked the transition to the budding colony and the knowledge that they can’t change but they also cannot really prepare. Claire going out and showing people how to keep from getting sicker. the twins etc. I went to college in appalchian Virigina, where as I grew up in tidewater and Northern Virginia, but to havr this part of where I lived come alive was so neat. Plenty of old hard scrabble proud people were there in between the college kids.

It has been said that I should write a littlw about why I like Jamie and Claire.
Ok, Let us start with the man himself. He has something about him, Claire thinks he looks good but she is at first intrigued by his ability to withstand the gruesome pain and how taciturn this man is.
The ride back to the castle, she grows even more intrigued etc etc.

James Fraser is a product of his time ans placs the same way Claire is of hers, obviously those are two different times with different mores and expectations. Jamie is young and acutely aware of expectations in society, the raucous noise after the wedding by the fellow traveling companions clearly embarrasses him.

He is an idealized version of a man, one that personally I wish I could be a fourth of.
The ladies all swoon over Jamie’s good looks. I would swoon over his ability to stand up for others his commanding a room and ability to ingriate himself. His love of strangers- he could have easily just paid Fergus, yet he ends up an integral part of thefamily.

He cares deeply about people, even more so those of his family. He knows how to fight- nowadays its guns and drive bys, he would not be impressed by such displays, horrified rather at the wanton disregard of human life. That being said I feel he would be the guy who has a concealed carry permit and a simple 9mm. Nothing flash just what can protect his family.


So Jamie is a virgin on his wedding night and embarrassed for it, yet he’s no problem with his back being used to drum up support for an unknown prince. He does not like showing his back, but it must be done in his mind. That is one of his appeals to me, he can lead, he can follow and he knows what his duty is, he has a sense of duty a strong one and a knowledge of what is right.

He is very learned with an educated mind, very good with business and making do- he looks after Lallybroch as best he can but it isn’t till Ardsmuir and then establishing his homestead in North Carolina that he really comes into his own. As a shy middle schooler then highschool and now post college, him and horatio hornblower are of a peice. I have kept both in my head for different reasons at times. They can be decisive and know what to do to others but inside are bitterly conflicted at times. See hornblower is Lieutenant Hornblower reminding himself he must not fidget When on deck basically. Jamie can be seen to not like the state of his hands as hes gotten older and a few other things. But he continues on.

Going back to the differences between Jamie and Claire-
He needs to explain to this person who is different that he is not to bs questioned. Though she sees it as a great injustice he is just going with what he knows, he doesnt like it per se but he thinks it the only way to get across the severity of what she had done.
Until he realizes just what it means for her, that to his new wife it is anathema to her concept of ‘relationship’ much less a marriage even if it was done in haste or necessity. Then I feel it changes, no good moral person wants to hurt their spouse, emotionally physically. Yet hes just done so and it almost seems to destroy him. At least that was my interpretation. He never 'thrashed’ her again but he does do something else in a later book. While hes not perfect he strongly respects his new wife’s wishes.

Jamie is complete with Claire. He cares not a whit for society or convention, letting his wife wander hither and yon tending to ppl, as a pastor or shepard would actually, or he would have likely gone around as Laird come to think of it. He himself would have no hestitation helping somone set up their barn or house etc you see him leading the prisoners and even chess with Lord John, he is a convivial fellow until he isn’t.

I may write more, let us see how this goes over.

Ok so gotham-ruaidh roped me into this so thank them for teasing out my thoughts in several patient questions.

Kaidan thinks about the ring in his footlocker more than he cares to admit. He feels it burning at him sometimes – like a strangely romantic game of hot potato.

Give it to her, part of him nags. Another tells him to wait. He’s been planning the moment for weeks now, and the comfort of her saying yes, of knowing there’s a future for them, that one day they won’t have to hide their feelings anymore. He thinks he should feel more hesitation, or question if she really is the one, and how the hell could he know so fast? He wonders if he’s hit an age where he now just knows when someone feels like a perfect compliment to him.

He thinks about it in small moments alone with her – like right now – as she lays in his arms, blankets tangled around her, and crimson hair spread out against her pillows. He runs his hand up and down her back as her breathing grows heavier. She strokes her hand across his chest, fingers brushing the dark hairs on his skin.

“I’ve never been to Vancouver before,” she says, half asleep. “Good food?”

Kaidan laughs and tugs her closer. “Yes.”

“Good. I’m over ship rations.”

“Me too. A steak would be great right about now.”

Shepard turns over and presses him to his back. She sheds the covers around her body and sits on top of him with one leg on either side of his body. His hands come to her waist, thumbs brushing against her freckled skin, finding the natural curves of her body.

“And your parents will like me?” she asks, a shade of hesitation in her voice. 

He knows the galaxy sees Shepard as a larger than life figure, someone unstoppable, who isn’t afraid of anything. But he knows that’s not true. Shepard’s scared of plenty, and she only says it in moments alone, with the fear that it’ll finally be too much for him to take. She’s beautiful and strong, but full of horror stories he can’t imagine living through. Sometimes nightmares of Mindoir or Akuze wake her up in tears, desperate for him to remind her that she’s alive, that he’d never let anything happen to her. Other times, it’ll be things he can’t so easily talk her down from. He can remind her that he’s not like the last person to to be with her, let her know her worth, and that no part of her past can make him stop loving her.

“They’ll love you.”

“Okay.”  

Kaidan imagines bringing her home, introducing her to his parents. He’s thought about what it’ll be like – bringing home the one to mom and dad. He didn’t imagine it’d be his CO, but he at least knows not to run away from true love when it’s right in front of him. Maybe a few months is a short time to know someone, and a month of “dating” is too short to know if he wants to marry her, but he thinks of a future without her, and all it looks like is an endless void. Something where he’s constantly searching for someone to live up to her.

“And I have so many things I want to do with you. Places I grew up, old memories, hidden gems… surprises.”

“Surprises?” she teases.

“Always full of ‘em.”

“Maybe I have a few of my own for you too,” she says, and it’s not her usual teasing tone, but something that feels like a confession. Maybe one she’s nervous about. He slides his hands over hers, and gives them a squeeze.

“Or you could tell me now?”

Shepard swallows, and thinks about the idea. He sees her contemplating, wanting to spit something out, but instead she shakes her head. Maybe whatever it is is best left for when other exciting things are coming to light.

“Two weeks, and then we’re done here. Just us. All our surprises, and the rest of our future together,” he says.

Shepard smiles and nods. “I like the sound of that.”

“Uh, Commander?” Joker says over the comms. “I think we’re going to need you up on the bridge. We’re tracking some kind of unknown enemy in the area.”

“What’s our location, Joker?”

“Just over Alchera.”

Shepard climbs off Kaidan, and reaches for her clothes where they’re strewn about on the floor. She slides on her uniform and tucks the shirt into her pants, and returns to the side of the bed. She presses a kiss to the top of Kaidan’s head, and he pulls her closer. She tilts her chin down and kisses him again. Then, the ship rocks violently. Shepard grips the wall, and looks back to Kaidan. Fear courses through her expression for a moment, but she snaps out of it, and becomes the Commander again.

“I’ll be back, okay?”

Kaidan nods, and alarms begin to sound around the Normandy. And in the middle of the chaos, of the potential danger and death around them, he finds himself thinking about the ring again. And all he can do is say a silent prayer to someone that no matter what happens, he hopes he has the chance to give it to her.

Good Little Soldier

For @hawkeykirsah because she’s been going through a rough patch and needed some cheering up! It’s not as nsfw as I’d planned; it’s just slightly spicy!


Good Little Soldier

“Why me?” Kaidan asked, his voice loud in the silence despite the softness of his tone.

Shepard froze, unsure of what to say as her stomach churned alarmingly with nerves; as though a baby Thresher Maw was inside of it trying to get out. The question was so simple, so basic, but she didn’t have a clue how to answer it as she shifted uncomfortably on the bed and picked at the sheets with idle hands.

Why him? Why Kaidan?

 "I don’t know,“ she said eventually, glad for the cover of darkness to hide her uncertain expression, even if some of it leaked out in her tone. "I just … liked you.”

Kaidan moved, the bed giving under his weight. “But why?” He was plainly puzzled. “You had lots of people who went after you, I saw it every time we stopped at the Citadel. So why me?”

Shepard sighed, thinking over the handful of pushy men, women and aliens who had come in and out of her life over the years. Some had swaggered in, full of themselves and certain that she would fall all over herself to be with them, while others had been star struck; with wide eyes and trembling hands as The Commander Shepard graced them with her presence. The outcome had always been disappointing, and after a time she just avoided relationships all together. It seemed that the people who were attracted to her were never the kind of people who she was attracted to.

Until Kaidan.

The rest is under a cut for space!

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now we’re alone, now we’re alive (olivia/garrus; pg)

the one where they finally trip over themselves and into each other

There’s movement beside her, and Olivia hmms as she stretches, waking up. She turns over, sliding her hand over Garrus’ chest. But he sits up and turns, setting his feet on the floor, and her hand falls away down to the soft sheets. She blinks at him in the dim light of her quarters.

“You okay?” she asks quietly. He looks strangely tense, especially considering how much tension they worked out earlier. She’s a little sore, though pleasantly so.

Garrus turns slightly and looks at her. “Yeah,” he says. “Need some water. That’s all.” The faint blue glow from the fish tank casts deep shadows across his face.

Olivia props herself up on her elbow, and the sheet falls to her bare hips. Garrus is practically a furnace, and she’d only bothered with underwear afterward. His eyes shift from hers to her waist, then back up to her face. The shadows are even darker now.

She tilts her head. They blew the Collector base and told the Illusive Man to go to hell, he’s tracked down and made his peace with Sidonis, and what the two of them have is happy, easy; it’s solid and comforting, even if it is just casual. Though she’s sure a shadow crosses her own face at the thought of never having more than casual with him, there’s no reason for his shadows.

“What’s wrong?” She draws the sheet back up and tucks it under her arms before pushing herself up, sitting beside him. “Garrus?” She sets her hand on his shoulder.

He shakes his head. “I’m fine, Shepard.” He kisses her temple and then stands up.

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tim shepard headcanons
  • the shepards are latinx!
  • tim & curly both get their curly hair from their dad
  • curly is tim’s mini-me
  • takes such pride in his scars & will absolutely tell each one’s story to anyone who asks
  • not necessarily a neat freak but everything must be left in the spot where he put it
  • his pancakes are the BEST, angel & curly always wake him up before school to make them
  • “get the fuck outta my room” 
  • “but tuesday is pancake day, timmy!!” 
  • always mumbling stuff under his breath
  • If Looks Could Kill™
  • when he’s mad his voice gets so low and it is terrifying
  • so so smart, no one gives him enough credit
  • always has a cigarette between his lips

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New Memories

[Written for day two of Mass Effect relationships week by @cactuarkitty and @vorchagirl . A photo, starring Garrus and Shepard.]

“We got a body here- holy shit, it’s alive.” Shepard comes to awareness, but it’s dim, muted. Her eyes can’t open, everything feels so heavy- where was she? What happened? The Reapers, Anderson, everything…

“That’s Shepard. Call a med-evac, immediately.”

Drifting in and out- voices, pain, then nothing. Blackness.

“Remove her armor. We need to do a full examination, assess the damage. What’s that?” 

“Look like a photo, tucked under the breastplate. Do we trash it?”

“Negative. Keep personal belongings here.” She reaches for the photo, hand rising slightly, but someone pushes it back down. Her fingers open and close, but the effort exhausts her. Nothingness creeps up once again- she’s out, a relief from the pain that intrudes every time her mind struggles to something even resembling alert.

Half a galaxy away, Garrus pulled a photo out from his own armor, holding it up to the light. The world captured on a sheet of glossy paper (a pain in the ass to get that much- he almost smiled at the memory of trying to explain to someone on the Citadel that they needed an actual, physical photo, not a holo, not a simple jpeg.) He stood with Shepard in that little, self-contained world. She had on that dress- the only one she owned, the one she wore to the Silversun stirp when he took her dancing. He wasn’t in armor, one of the few times he wasn’t. Their faces were pressed together, both trying to squeeze into a limited frame, smiles so wide that they looked slightly unhinged. He remembers everything about that moment- the way they both smelled faintly of champagne, the feel of her waist underneath his hand, the way she turned and kissed his cheek for the next photo, the one he keeps back aboard the ship. Some things are too precious even to hold in his armor.

“You would’ve liked this place,” he says to the photo, looking at the forest that surrounds them. Breathable atmosphere. Flowers, trees. It almost looked like something recognizable. “Check out that pond.” He turns the photo so that it faces the water far below. The wind picks up, almost tears the fragile sheet from his hand and he quickly tucks it back into his armor, making sure it’s resting somewhere close to where his heart is. He keeps his hand there for a moment.

His comms crackle to life, static from far off. The Mass Relays may be down, but you can still talk with the rest of the galaxy. “Normandy crew, this is Earth Alliance, do you copy?” No one answers, so Garrus takes the initiative.

“This is Garrus Vakarian of the Normandy.”

“Shepard’s alive.” 

And later, much later, when he’s by her bedside and she’s awake, though she drifts in and out, they hold hands, refusing to let go. Even when she’s asleep, Shepard’s grip doesn’t loosen, and Garrus can’t bring himself to care, sleeping in a chair next to her bed, and when the nurses aren’t looking, in the bed next to her, his turian body curled up slightly to fit.

There’s a photo by the side of Shepard’s bed, on the small table. Someone found a frame for it, plastic and cheap. It’s wrinkled from being in her armor, and her own blood stains one corner. Garrus holds his up in comparison- they folded their copies the same way, the same photo twice over, four grinning faces looking up at them.

“You kept yours?” Shepard is tired, but she’s managed to prop herself up on one elbow, looking at Garrus, reaching for her photo and then holding it, fingers tracing the faces. 

“In my armor,” he says, demonstrates how. She smiles up at him, collapsing back into the pillows.

“Let’s take a new one, when I get out of here.” Reflexively, her hands touch the new scars and bandages on her face. 

“Silversun won’t be there anymore.” It’s not that Garrus wants to remind her, but he’s worried she’s forgotten. Everything is still so fragile.

Shepard manages to roll her eyes, an admirable feat considering how bruised and battered her body is. “I know that, but Vegas is still there. I’m taking you to Vegas, and you’re taking me dancing again.”

“Sounds like a deal.”

And then later, much later, before Shepard is released but after she’s awake and coherent and more than ready to leave, Garrus finds a camera, ambushes her with it in the hospital as she stands by a window, shafts of light hitting her red hair and outlining her body in a soft glow, IV pole just out of frame. “Surprise,” he says as he pushes up against her, and despite herself, she laughs, looking up at him just as he snaps the photo.

Later again, when she’s home and with him, he has two copies. “New memories,” he says, raising a glass (water for both of them) to her.

“New memories,” she says, and they toast.

hotstuffcortez  asked:

for the Five Times meme fShenko and /almost/ kissing

1. 

It’s late, and Shepard knows she’s going to have a hell of a headache the next morning. It’s always this way with wine. She drinks too much, thinking she’s something classy and mature, and then a bottle or so later, she’s woozy and feels the need to eat everything in sight.

“Shepard,” Kaidan says, hiccuping halfway through her name. She laughs too, and he holds a hand up. “Stop. You’re not making sense either.”

It started out innocent, just the two of them splitting cheap wine after dinner in the mess. They’d swapped stories, talking about the worst soldiers they’d shared crew quarters with. His worst was an aggressive snorer, hers was a rookie private who seemed to think the Alliance was a glorified dating service.

“I totally am,” she giggled, and hiccuped too.

He shakes his head, and wobbles forward on the bench. She catches him as he hiccups again and covers his mouth to keep from laughing. Shepard always knows she’s drunk because she feels it in her face first. It goes numb and tingly, and the world feels floaty and fuzzy. But now that her hand is on Kaidan’s body, she feels stable, coherent… in the moment. Her thumb brushes along the strong muscles under his shirt, and they both go quiet.

He swallows, and she looks at his lips. She swears he’s begging to be kissed looking so handsome and getting this close to her. She parts her lips and leans forward. Suddenly, the door to the crew quarters pops open and Kaidan jolts away and rubs the back of his neck. 

“Mmm, sorry,” Ashley mumbles, half asleep and stumbles into the bathroom.

“It’s… it’s okay,” Shepard replies under her breath.

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anonymous asked:

"Please talk to me." And/or "Will you marry me?" Fluffy angst maybe? Or whatever you wanna write :3

ALRIGHT ANON! I did both of them for a fun challenge lol. SO I hope this is enjoyable for you whoever you are out there!!! <3 I did my best to be angsty AND fluffy so I hope I hit the mark for you. Ao3 here!

Thanks for being patient :) Sorry my turn around isn’t that fast, but I do what I can haha. Hope you enjoy it! <3

———————————————————————-

Shepard lay on the ground of Therum in a cool patch of shade. Her hair spread beneath her pale freckled face like a wave of fire. With ankles crossed and long delicate fingers braided together on her stomach. Her breath left her lips in  hurried exhales ringing with a serene calmness with just a touch of stressed the fuck out. Pulling one hand from the others grip, she slid the glove from it one finger at a time. Once her hand was free she placed it on the ground beside her, spreading her fingers wide before picking up and dropping small pieces of red rubble. 

“Shepard I… didn’t mean to… I don’t know. I thought…” Garrus strode over to her slowly, his head tilted to the side slightly looking at the abandoned mine entrance. 

It was the same dig site they had found Liara in all those years ago. Shepard didn’t speak, she merely just grab small piles of sand from the ground, letting them slip between her fingers repeatedly. He took another step closer, testing the water so to say.

“Please talk to me, Jane.” Garrus’ voice was light and raspy. His subvocal’s flanging in a tone she learned was disappointment. 

“I don’t know what to say.” Shepard finally spoke after another long moment, her voice cracking midway as she clear her throat and pulled the corner of her lip into a suddenly dry mouth.

“How about, ‘Yes, Garrus. I’d love to marry you and spend the rest of my life getting you out of trouble.’?” Garrus’s purr was filled with confidence and ease as he took another step closer, wearing his version of a perfect smile. Watching as she pull from her core to sit up with arms wrapped around her knees.

“Garrus…” She shook her head looking down at her feet, using the tip of her foot to create a small hole in the space below it.

“Don’t you ‘Garrus’ me. Like you know what’s going to happen-” 

Standing quickly she closed the gap between them with urgency. Furrowing her brow, her face was screaming with anger but her eyes were screaming with fear. “You ‘don’t’… You have no idea what’s coming.” She pulled her hands to her hips as she sent a small pink tongue out before continuing. “I actually do know what’s out there, Garrus… I’ve known for a long time. And I think we both know I’m not…”

“Jane.” Garrus pulled her from her thoughts with a hand to her chin as he slid her face forward to his. “Come back to me.” 

After a deep sigh she began, her voice was almost defeated. “How can you even think about getting married right now, Garrus? With everything going on… It’s just… You have to know know that I’m not…” Shaking her head at her thoughts, it was hard for her to even say them out loud.

“That you’re not what, Shepard? Huh?” He asked pointedly, his undertones already revealing he knew her answer.

“That I’m not coming back from this. This is gonna be it for me, Garrus. This is my last stop. You can’t cheat death twice, you just can’t…” Narrowing her eyes she forced composure as she slid her hands to either side of his neck. “I don’t want to leave you with that. With nothing…”

If she was being honestly there was nothing more that she wanted than to spend the rest of her life as his bondmate. She was in love with him. Irrevocably, unconditionally, unfathomably in love with him. With the way his nose crinkled when he laughed, to the soft flanging his voice made when he said her name. Down to the way he held her late at night, or woke her from the nightmares of death and failure. Shepard loved every inch of that damn turian, through and through. But she wasn’t about to promise him a life she couldn’t give him. Not when she knew what was coming… She couldn’t give him everything and leave him all alone in the world with nothing.

Shepard didn’t like saying it… But she knew it was the truth. She knew that all their months of preparation and gathering forces came down to their next big fight… The last fight. That all of their endless hours building the Crucible, and preparing for the battle came down to this. It all came down to her… She was going to have to fight the Reapers and she could feel it in every molecule of her body that she wasn’t going to make it through this one.

“You won’t marry me because you think you’re going to die? Hell, Shepard. You might… I might. Everyone we know might die during this fight. The Reapers could win and we could all be decimated…”

“I know, that’s exactly my point.” Shaking her head lightly she held her mouth slightly open in mild confusion.

“And it’s also mine. Except I’m not scared of it. I’m not running away from the things I want because I’m worried I might to lose them. I don’t want to marry you because the galaxy is crumbling, Jane. I want to marry you because if I die in a few days, I want to know I died as your mate. I want to die knowing I had the love of my life by my side until the very end.” Garrus’ rasp ended sincerely as he gaze down into those large emerald eyes. 

He watched as they filled with a liquid he learned to be tears, sliding a hand to her cheek he removed it before it escaped over her ivory chin. “Why are you crying?” 

“Because… I’ve never… No ones ever said anything like that to me before. And well… truthfully you’re right. I’m scared.” Sliding her hand below her eyes she removed more evidence of her sensitivity. After a deep sigh she continued again. “I’m scared because I don’t want to die again. I don’t want to go back to the dark emptiness of… nothing. I don’t want to leave you here alone again…” 

Moving her eyes down she began thinking back to when the SR1 had been spaced. Back to when she had died… “Or if something happened to you and I had to just… go on without you… God, Garrus. I don’t know how you did it.” Shaking her head lightly side to side she looked back into his crystal eyes. 

“You’ll never be alone, Shepard. Never. We’re going to get out of this alive. You better believe that.” Garrus ran his fingers down the back of her hair as he finished.

Jane leaned into his chest as she pull him into a tight hug. Thinking about all of their time together these last three plus years… All of their long nights, and every near death mission. All of those soft kisses and warm hugs. Every little piece of them came flooding into her mind wrapping her in a tornado of emotions. Squeezing him tighter with each passing memory, she didn’t want to let him go. 

After several minutes of this, he broke the silence with a soft purr from above her. “Do you know why I wanted to ask you here?”

“Cause you like making me suffer?” Her voice was soft and light as she joked about the heat of the planet. She was trying for playful, only slightly able to cover their previous conversations weight.

“That is a bonus… But, no.” Sliding his three taloned hand to the back of her neck again, he rest it at the base of her skull as he rub his thumb across the side of her head affectionately. “That day we found Liara… when we were running up the tunnel, escaping the cave in… Which, if I remember correctly you caused-” Shepard scoffed as she rolled her eyes at him before allowing him to continue. “We got caught or something and we tumbled down that ramp in a pile. I landed right on top of you.” Garrus ended with an honest laugh as he recalled the memory with fondness pouring though his subvocal’s.

“How could I forget, you weigh a fucking ton.” Poking him with a finger lightly in the side, she returned his laugh with an affectionate smile. When she noticed the unimpressed look he held in his eyes, she nodded sweetly for him to continue, zipping her lips with pinched fingers and a closed mouth smile.

After a nostalgic sigh he narrowed his eyes at her once more, lowering his head closer. “That was the day I realized I was in love with you, Jane. That was the day I realized I’d follow you anywhere you asked me to.” His voice was strong, and he didn’t waver once, which was surprising since this was the first time he’d actually told her he loved her. 

“And I did… I followed you to Ilos. And with everything stacked against us we made it out of there. Then I followed you straight into hell again through the relay. And guess what, Shepard? We made it out.” 

After a momentary pause he swallowed and continued in his usual soft bewitching purr. “We made it past the geth and Saren. Past Sovereign and even death itself when it came for you… We’re going to make it through this too, Jane. We’re going to kick Harbingers ass straight back into dark space and we’re going to make it out alive. We’re going to spend the rest of our lives somewhere warm and tropical and I’m going to remind you everyday why I chose you… Marry me, Jane. Spend the rest of your life with me. Whether it’s tomorrow or in 70 years.”

Shepard closed her eyes tightly biting back the stinging her fresh tears brought. Slowly she opened them, sliding them to his as she begin nodding profusely. As her head move up and down faster and faster with each nod, her light pink lips curled into a wide smile. Pressing her mouth to his before speaking she kissed him deeply.

“Yes… Yes of course, Garrus. I… I’m sorry. I don’t know-” She kissed him over and over again, all around his face on every plate she could reach from her height. “-what I was thinking. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Of course I will.” Kissing him one final time before he grabbed a small piece of fur from his suit. 

As he unwrapped it slowly he reveal a small golden ban, atop was a flat circular stone. It was a dark blue, and almost looked like some kind of turquoise. “I needed help with this part… But Joker mentioned you used to have one like it. And something about these being the human tradition? Is it alr-” His worried awkward rambling was cut short by her lips as she kissed him again.

“It’s perfect.” Lifting her ungloved hand to his he placed small pecks on every finger before he slid the ban to its final resting place. Feeling that familiar sting behind her eyes she slid her arms around his cowl squeezing him tightly. 

Shepard may have been scared and stressed beyond imagination. Scared that the Reapers would win, scared that she might lose… But now nothing scared her more than the thought of dying before she had the chance to see this through. Nothing scared her more than dying without Garrus knowing that it was him. That it had always been him.

They had something special, something that the Reapers didn’t: Hope. Friendship. Love… Something to live for. 

Reach and Flexibility

21 pages. This damn thing is 21 pages long and I’ve been working on it all week.

Having said that, holy crap; I think this is the Shakarian piece I’m most happy with so far. Played around with the timeline and some other things. Bah.

Arisa returns from the Collector Ship pissed off and frustrated, wound up and needing to let off steam. She’d promised Garrus time, so she goes for the next best thing; beating the shit out of a punching bag while the rest of the Crew is asleep.

At least until her favorite Turian comes looking for her. Garrus is better at reading her then she’d realized, and he knows exactly what she needs.

ME2 AU, Pre-Canon Getting together, just past the Collector Ship mission. NSFW, Smut and Feels, Knotting. Shakarian. Enjoy ♥

Pods, everywhere. Most empty - some still occupied. No life signs, according to EDI.

As if that makes it better.

The punching bag swings when she strikes, fists wrapped and clenched as tight as her teeth.

The Collectors - Protheans, twisted to serve the Reapers.

She spins, lashing out with her leg, dodging sideways when the bag swings back violently, dancing around it more gracefully than she’d ever been on a dance floor.

A Goddamn trap, Harbinger waiting, mocking.

Another flurry of punches, knuckles feeling bruised despite the wraps, sweat dripping as she moves.

‘I didn’t send you without a purpose. We now know what we need. I’ll send word when my scientists have made a breakthrough.’

Fucking Cerberus, messing with people’s lives yet again. Arisa bares her teeth and swings, only the strike of her skin against the bag helping the tension, the anger she’d felt since escaping the Collector Ship.

Not fast enough. Not strong enough. Not good enough. My fault, always my fault, everyone relying on me and yet questioning me. Is it her? Is she real?

Kaidan’s scowl, his disapproving look that read both how could you work with Cerberus? and are you really Shepard?, flashing through her mind, making her growl.

Who the fuck else could I be?!

Her control snaps. The next kick is laced with biotic energy, a purple aura surrounding her, and Arisa only snarls and puts all her strength into it, to wound up to hold back.

The chain snaps and the bag goes flying across the room, bouncing off the wall with a satisfying thwack.

That brings her back, somewhat.

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FICLET: A Study in I Love Yous (2/2)

Part I here (and now also on Ao3)


She doesn’t admit that she loves him. Not aloud anyway.

She ignores the warnings on Omega, when her heart sings at the sight of him–when, for the briefest of moments, it seems as if everything is right in the galaxy. She almost hugs him, almost falls to pieces in the arms of her old friend. But Cerberus is watching, and she cannot let them see.

She denies it on the Normandy, when she stalks outside the med bay for hours. Miranda is incessant, but Shepard doesn’t want to give her answers, doesn’t want to explain how she did what was necessary to get him off that station in time to save his life. You lied to me about him, she accuses, with more anger than she intends, so I don’t owe you anything.

She keeps denying it through Sidonis and the Collector Base and all the stolen moments in between. She knows the line between friend and more has long since blurred, but she can’t quite figure out when she lost track of it. She can’t determine the precise moment when her harmless attempts to make him blush became intentional flirting became–whatever it is she feels the night he comes to her cabin.

She tries not to question it when she grabs his omnitool as he sleeps. She has run through every possible strategy for their attack on the Collector Base, every way she can keep him at her side. Every plan fails except the one where he leads the second fire team, but the thought–the nightmare–of them separating drives her to distraction. Their comms could be cut, he might not reach the rendezvous point, they might have to leave when he’s nowhere to be found. She cannot stop running through every horrific possibility, and so in those final twilight hours, she links his omnitool to hers. She gives him full access to her most jealously guarded possession, so that she can track his biometrics and geolocation. Mission be damned, she will not leave him behind.

She doesn’t know where that falls on the line between “just friends” and more, but it is decidedly Not Casual. She supposes she shouldn’t be surprised, though. As she nervously teased him the night before, she is nothing if not intense. She has never once managed to do anything casually. Never really wanted to try.

She hopes he understood her hints.

Menae changes everything. She hasn’t heard from him in six months. She nearly gives up hope of ever seeing him when she sees the state of Palaven. But there he is, standing tall on that besieged moon, and the sight of him, alive and in command, fills her with unexpected pride and admiration. She wants to embrace him, to tell him all of the fears she’s kept inside for the past half year. But just like Omega, there are too many eyes. So instead, she shakes his hand. It’s proper and it’s formal, and rattles her in a way that makes her start to question whether this Not Casual thing she feels is actually Love. She wonders, and she fears, whether he feels the same.

The answer, of course, is obvious–when she finally pays attention. He never actually says he loves her. Not aloud at least. But he tells her every day.

He tells her when she arrives at the war room only to discover that the petulant diplomats have resolved their unnecessary disputes. He tells her when she enters her cabin well past zero dark thirty, exhausted and frayed, only to see that her mountains of paperwork have been completed in triplicate. He tells her when she finds herself in bed, boots removed, though she’s certain she fell asleep at her desk over a pile of work. And he tells her when, despite the galaxy crumbling around them, he still finds a way to make her laugh.

He tells her in all the perfect ways only he can, and sometimes she hates it. She hates that she should find something that makes her so happy while so many others suffer. She hates that they found each other in the midst of all this chaos. She hates that she sometimes wonders if they could be happy together without all the carnage.

But then he takes her to the Citadel on the most perfect date, and she’s tired of denying herself the things she feels.

Reapers be damned, she’ll steal whatever slivers of happiness they can find. “I love you, Garrus Vakarian,” she admits, to herself and to him. She knows it’s a long time coming, and the truth floods her with relief.

But he doesn’t return the sentiment. He mentions something about Joker’s vids, and she knows he’s flustered. He stutters, like he did when she first mentioned blowing off steam, and she realizes he thinks she’s still just trying to make him blush.

She doesn’t say it again.

The words are not enough, and she’s not sure what is. She obsesses over the question, keeps a mental list of a thousand ways to tell him, but she lacks the subvocals to convince him of the depth of her feeling. He deserves perfect, and she can never give that to him. So she says nothing. She doesn’t want to screw it up again.

But of all the perfect things they have–friendship, trust, respect–time is not one of them. It never has been.

And before she knows it, he is injured and he cannot go on. His mandibles flare in desperation when he realizes she intends to leave him behind, and some quiet part of her whispers that this might be her last chance.

“I love you, Garrus Vakarian,” she says, and she knows it’s not enough. “And I always will.”

She catches the droop of his jaw, the frighteningly short moment in which he realizes she’s never been joking, and she melts at his response. She takes his armored hand in hers and, for a second, she is tempted to bask in this final captured moment. This sliver of time they stole from the chaos around them.

All too quickly, the screech of Reaper fire and the chattering of husks shatters that stolen moment. It’s not enough.

She can’t remember drawing her weapon, but the sounds of the Reaper forces fueled something selfish inside her, and it powers her forward.

They deserves more than stolen moments in a firefight.   

He deserves more than two hastily spoken I Love Yous, only one of which he believes.

There may not be a perfect way to say it, but he deserves to hear her try. A thousand times and maybe more.

She leaves a trail of carnage, a scattering of husks and Marauders in her wake, and as she reloads her heat sink, still drunk on fury and selfishness, she promises herself that this is the last moment she will allow the Reapers to take. The rest will be hers, to cherish and enjoy. She will make the time to tell him that she loves him in each of the thousand ways she imagined.

And may the galaxy have mercy on the poor soul who tries to stop her.

Han & Leia Week Day 3. This One is Personal

Right, so… it’s personal, and I don’t know how much of this will stay on task. This one is really, really hard for me.

When I was sixteen I spent some time with Carrie in an airport smoke hole during a weather delay. I was headed back to Oklahoma from New York after spending spring break in the West Village and cutting three feet off of my hair. I was terrified. Let me give you some prospective. I grew up in a small redneck town and came out in 1996, so you can imagine, maybe how scary all of this was for me. This was March and Matthew Shepard was killed that following October.

Anyhow, I was already using a lot of substances to cope with the issues that come from having very little family support and physical bullying etc. (Really, I’m fine now. I have a great therapist and good chosen family).

So, I’m smoking because for 24 years that’s what I did, especially back then and I’m writing because I’m working on an audition piece and I’ve taken a bar because I hate flying and a weather delay, shit that’s even worse. I’m in a smoking room, people come and go and I’m drowsy from the bar and not paying attention. Someone comes in sits down, fights with their lighter and I ignore them.

Hey, can I get a light?

I nod, because I don’t really want to talk my speech is a slurry and I’d rather not call attention to myself so I just gesture to my lighter that’s next to me.

I don’t know, I guess maybe my movements are a little slurry as well, I probably dropped my pen or something. I’d say that’s a probably.

You alright?

So by this time I’m thinking, nice voice kind of sounds like Carrie Fisher, but I’m kind of loaded too so probably not.

Hey, snapped fingers.

I hate being snapped at so I sit up and look over, everything is slow like peanut butter and my eyes feel weird.

Whoa, what did you take?

A bar.

You taken it before?

Holy shit, you’re Carrie Fisher. I loved you in…

Star Wars?

Drop Dead Fred.

And she laughed, fucking laughed her ass off. I like you. You took a bar? You’ve done it before?

I nodded. I’m going back to Oklahoma. I want to feel as little as possible when I get there.

I’m sure I slurred most of that, a lot.

Who the fuck would raise a kid there?

I laugh, And I’m gay.

Obviously.

We talking for a little while but I mostly left her alone, I didn’t take a picture and I didn’t ask her to sign anything. It was just nice, casual.

I wish I hadn’t taken that bar, but I think that was part of the reason she kept me talking for so long. I was pretty fucked up and I looked all of fourteen or fifteen back then.

She told me at one point to live my life out of out of spite until I found something beautiful to live for, or something along those lines. And that ‘fuck it’ should be my mantra. And so it is, and has been for a very long time. 'Fuck it’ has kept me alive for a long time.

I do wish that she’d known that I made it out alive. That I’d run into her ten or fifteen years later and had that conversation, the 'I’m okay thanks for St. Louis’ conversation.

Anyway, that’s as about much of that as I can stand to type. Oh, I was wearing a Steely Dan T-shirt and she loved it, I can confirm that Carrie loved Steely Dan.

anonymous asked:

How would the companions react to sole dying and then coming back to life?

(For future reference I won’t normally do these because I can’t write for shit but I’ll do this one because I like it– it’s more like a fic than a reaction)

It had been a quiet day in Sanctuary. Soon however, the peaceful suburbs were filled with angry grunts and gunshots as a massive hoard of super mutants overtook the settlement. Soon enough the heavily armored settlers destroyed the hoard, but at a moment too late. Sole had been shot and bled out right there on the pavement. After little deliberation, everyone decided that the Hero of the Commonwealth deserved a proper burial. They buried sole in one of the more scenic areas of the wastes, and took their respective times to grieve and cope over their loss. That was, until several months later, the sole surviver woke up. They crawled up from the brittle ground, with no idea of how this could have happened.

Cait- Unsure of what to do next, Sole wandered aimlessly around the commonwealth for a while. Eventually they became malnourished and irradiated, so much so that they didn’t notice that they had stumbled into a feral ghoul hoard and were being slowly torn apart. Before they had time to fight back, several shots rang out from the wasteland and took out all of the foes. Sole turned to see Cait behind them, gun in hand, “Getting yerself into trouble beyond the grave now I see?” She questioned, but dole could see the slight horror behind her tough exterior, but it faded quickly. Cait was always one to accept things for what they were. “Ah well come on now. You can tell me all about your resurrection or whatever you’re calling it later. Let’s get out of harms way first.”

Curie- When sole found Curie helping with injuries and sicknesses in Sanctuary, they were met with a puppy dog expression of confusion. “Madame/Monsieur… I don’t think I understand…” she began to feverently  measure Sole’s vitals, checking their blood pressure and dilation. Sole insisted that they felt fine and that they were, indeed, alive and well. When Curie still didn’t understand, sole explained that there are some things in the world that can’t be explained by science.

Codsworth- As Sole stumbled back into Sanctuary Hills, the first voice she heard was so fitting. He would always be the reminder of where they come from. “Ma'am/Sir, is it really you? They all said you weren’t coming back” he spoke. Sole explained simply that they were gone but they are back now. “Wonderful!” Codsworth said, “Next time, try not to leave for so long!”

Danse- Unable to find the Paladin as easily as the rest (seeing as he didn’t usually patron cities like Diamond City or Goodneighbor), Sole eventually made it to the Prydwen only to be told that nobody had seen Danse in a long time–not since sole died. Rumor had it that he had left the brotherhood, continuing its mission as a nomadic rogue. When sole eventually found Danse clearing out a synth warehouse, he responded with only silence at the sight. Sole couldn’t tell if he was angry or afraid, but they both stood there for a few minutes with substantial distance between them. All of a sudden to Sole’s surprise, Danse ran over to them and embraced tightly. He said weakly, “I don’t care what happen or how you’re back Soldier–Don’t leave me again.”

Deacon- He was the only that Sole didn’t go looking for once they got back. They knew that eventually he would find them. On a quiet night as Sole sat down for a drink at the Third Rail, a stranger three seats down cleared their throat. “Goddamn. I didn’t ACTUALLY think that the rumors were true–but I wanted to see for myself,” the man said. Sole knew immediately it was Deacon from his voice. They turned to see his bespectacled figure. “So what–you’re like the new Jesus now? I mean technically you’ve come back to life twice– you’re like Jesus on steroids. Congrats.” Sole chuckled and bought him a drink. He made mildly offensive Jesus jokes the rest of the night and they just picked up where they left off, ignoring the original situation.

Dogmeat- Sole lit up once they heard the familiar jingle of Dogmeat’s collar. They turned around and saw the rugged German Shepard in the distance, foraging for food scraps. They watched as he picked his head up, catching a new scent. Seeing this, sole yelled “Here Boy!” And he came barreling towards them. He nuzzled Sole as he approached, giving them a normal greeting. To him this had been no different than sole going on one of their long trips.

Hancock- Sole could already smell the musty stench of old liquor and smoke–signaling the Mayor’s long winded bender even as they ascended the spiral staircase to his office. As Sole opened the door, they found Hancock slumped too casually over his sofa, eyes barely open and Jet needle in hand. He notices them slowly and begins let’s out a raspy laugh. “Man, this shit IS strong,” he chuckled. Sole explained how they had died and come back and how they are really there and not a hallucination. “Sure kid. You’re the goddamn messiah and I’m one of the founding fathers,” he protested. To this, Sole just gave him a hurt look. How could he not believe them? Seeing this, however, he shot up from his slouch and grabbed them by the shoulders. His casual tone changed to a much more earnest one. “Is…it really you?” He whispered. Sole nodded, and he bowed his head in relief. “This better fucking not be a bad trip… because i don’t think I can do this alone anymore.”

Macready- Sole knew exactly where the mercenary would be–right where they had first found him. Sole approached the back room of the third rail and heard nothing but a distinct clicking noise. They entered to see Macready slumped against the couch, bruised and scarred from what presumably was a bad beating, wistfully revolving the barbell of his gun. Sole said his name, and he looked up with sincere confusion. “You-you’re alive?” He questioned. Sole explained what had happened, and then asked why he was so badly beaten. “I’ve been holding up here since you left. I figured someone like you might come along and I could pretend like nothing had changed. But staying in one place isn’t the best choice for a mercenary–people who want to find me knew where to fine me,” he said pointing to a particularly awful black eye, “But that’s all in the past now. You’re back, and… I guess that’s all there is to it” he finished with a smirk.

Nick- After entering the familiar smoke filled detective agency, sole was surprised to find that Nick was not at all shocked by them. “Well kiddo, I guess now we’re a lot more alike than we ever thought.” Sole paused for a moment, and then realized that he believed they were replaced by a synth. After repeatedly explaining that they couldn’t be, Nick wouldn’t budge. Finally sole pulled out a pocket knife and swiftly sliced open a small cut in their hand. Upon seeing the blood, Nick paused for a moment and then wrapped sole in a tight hug. “Shit kid, don’t do that again”

Piper- “Well this is an interesting turn of events” the writer commented as soon as Sole walked into Publick occurrences. “This… is impossible right? You died–you were dead. How can you be here right now?” Sole explained how the situation happened from their perspective. “So what now, Blue,” she replied, “You’re a god? You’re immortal?” Sole sensed her skepticism through her sarcasm, and told her again as sincerely as possible that they weren’t an imposter of a synth. “I’m still not sure if I buy it, but it sure does make a damn fine story,” Piper settled.

Preston- Going to Sanctuary first after coming back, Preston was one of the first people Sole looked for. It wasn’t until they approached him very closely  that he began to even acknowledge that it could be them. “H-how did you?” Sole explained that they didn’t know what had happened but that they were really back now. Preston then shed his dutiful  exterior and embraced them, grinning and laughing. “General, we can figure it all out later. It’s just great to have you back.”

Strong- Sole was met mostly from confusion when they found Strong. He loosely inspected them and said, “Strong was wrong about humans. Some humans much stronger than others.”

X6-88- The Courser looked noticeably skeptical when he first saw sole. They stood in silence for several moments, and they could tell that he was deliberating something. Finally, he came to a conclusion. “You know what, I don’t care how you got back. You’re here now, that’s what matters. We have work to do,”

Five Kisses (Shakarian, T)

This is a holiday cheer gift for @ritewine​ from @acequeenking. Happy Holidays ritewine, and may the Harbinger not swallow you whole.

Summary: It takes Garrus five kisses to find his happy ending. 

- - - 

1. The first time he kisses her properly is the night before they die.

For two people facing a suicide mission, they takes things damnably slow. Garrus knows this; regrets it yet somehow treasures it. He’s never been in a relationship where there’s anything but the physical, so this – the long conversations, the stolen moments where his shoulder can just barely brush against hers in the dining area  – is new territory. Welcome territory.

He holds her hand in the gunnery – the only place on this ship where he’s guaranteed there are no bugs, no change of the Illusive Man watching them, listening to them – and it feels…amazing. There’s an undercurrent of nervousness he’s not felt in a simple touch since the old reach and flexibility days, but Shepard is so much more than a nameless scout; she’s -

“Garrus,  can I ask you a favor?” She asks. Garrus watches the scars on her face, the way they move and glow; she hasn’t quite taken a rocket to the face, but she’s lived through trauma, all the same. They both have. Their scars are nearly in the same places, and both tell the same story: We’ve walked through hell. We survived. And he’s naive enough to hope that maybe – maybe – they can do that again.

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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.

Chaos and Adventure (ME Fic)

I was @qbert0​‘s Holiday Harbinger gifter, and wanted to write something to go with the dice bag. You mentioned that you liked fShep/Liara and Garrus/Tali as a secondary pairing, that you enjoyed the whole gang’s adventures in the Citadel DLC, and requested no heavy emotional angst, so I tried to write a bit of fluff that captured some of those themes. It was a fun piece to write and I hope you enjoy it!

Post-game, ambiguous as to ending but Shepard is alive, pretty much pure fluff.


Judging from the length of the line outside, the rebuilt Ryuusei’s Sushi Bar was even popular than the old one. Even in civvies, Shepard was quickly recognized and waved to the front of the line. Liara had wondered if she would prove to be on some sort of restaurant blacklist, but if the maître d’ was aware of Shepard’s role in the demise of the sushi bar’s previous incarnation, she gave no sign. “Welcome, ma’am, Ryuusei’s is honored to have you,” she said smoothly. “This way, please, the rest of your party is waiting for you.”

Liara took a moment to look over the place. The renovation had been extensive (and doubtless expensive). Fish swam contentedly below her feet, unaware of the tragic fate of their predecessors. The wood paneling was carefully aged as if to suggest that the restaurant had been in continuous operation for decades, and certainly had not been invaded by mercenaries or swarming with Reapers at any point.

The maître d’s brow was furrowed in a look Liara had learned to interpret as impatience. She fell in beside Shepard as they made their way across the restaurant. Garrus Vakarian gave a quick wave from across the way – of course, he had spotted them first. Tali’Zorah’s attention appeared to be completely absorbed by the “NEW Dextro Menu!” in her hands, but she quickly glanced up as the maître d’ pulled out Shepard and Liara’s chairs.

“Shepard! Liara!” she said. “It’s so good to see you!” Liara didn’t need to be able to see Tali’s face to know that she was smiling. “It’s been too long.”

“Well, if some people could tear themselves away from their homeworlds more often…” Shepard said teasingly.

Garrus spread his hands. “You know how it is, Shepard,” he said ruefully. “One meeting after another, datapad after datapad filled with decisions to be made… It’s enough to make a turian think about resuming his vigilante career. I’d have thought the Reaper advisor would be, eh, off the hook with the Reapers gone…”

“Ah, ah!” Tali waved a finger in mock indignation. “No Reaper talk.”

Keep reading

A. Ryder: Interlude #3

There’s a new VI in the Cultural Centre, one with a hidden message meant for the Ryders from a particular individual.

A message from one pair of lovers to another, one Commander to one Pathfinder. Because sometime’s things just fall into place.

Jaal x Ryder, Garrus x Shepard. I started playing Mass Effect 2 and I’ve read a couple fanfics and, just… feels hit. And this idea hit after seeing someone mention how that one VI could be Shepard and Garrus. So Yeah. IDK how right this is. I don’t care right now. I had to write it. Enjoy ♥

Also on AO3 under ‘The Misadventures of Aria Ryder’

Jaal loves visiting the Cultural Centre when they’re on the Nexus. He’s been through every exhibit by now, gone through every piece of information both the Human and Pathfinder VI’s can give him -

-and yet, this time, it’s Aria leading him inside, a strangely determined look on her face.

“Darling One,” he’s been trying not to question her, happy to go wherever she wishes, but something seems off in her expression, some minor desperation he’s not sure he likes, “What is it that has you so harried, Aria? Has something happened?”

“Liam said they added a new VI.” is all she manages to respond before they’re there, suddenly, and she’s come to such a quick stop that Jaal nearly stumbles into her, one hand ending up on her shoulder to keep balance.

Keep reading

Photos & Time

Mass Effect Relationships prompt Day 2: Pictures of You

A/N - I was going to write a brand new drabble for today, but it’s midnight and I’m tired. So instead I’m going to post a snippet from my Jane & James fic ‘Say Something’ which is set post-ME3 when they finally get together. It’s all about photos. Art is by hazumonster and duckydrawsart, and represents the photo of James that Jane keeps, and the Fornax poster of her that he has. Lol.


Say Something - Photos & Time

James.

The thought of him sent a dizzying rush through her body.

After all these months of running from the very thought of him, of denying her feelings and desperately trying to convince herself that she didn’t love him, it was such a release to just … let go. To let go of everything she’d kept bottled up so tightly and for so long. She’d had so many feelings for him that she hadn’t even known how to deal with them, and after the war and her injuries she’d assumed things would never happen.

And now … here they were.

Jane smiled and brushed her hair behind her ears as she pulled on a black strapless sundress, simple underwear and added some knee high leather boots that would be suitable for a long walk. The thought of strolling hand in hand with James and showing him her home caused a flurry of happiness to fizz through her veins, and she smiled to herself as she drifted through the kitchen door.

The sight of James padding back and forth barefoot in her kitchen and working over the stove brought yet another smile to her face, and Jane paused for a moment to watch him. She sidled up, slid an arm around his waist, and leaned against him as he cooked; she’d missed him. He deftly flipped some bacon in the pan, decided it was crispy enough, and then dished it up; adding fresh slices of toast and some of his famous eggs – though Jane suspected he’d improvised with her meager provisions.

He’d already poured them glasses of juice and he nodded towards her coffee machine which was burbling away. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted, but I was starving so I made us a bit of everything. Some protein and carbs.” James steered her towards the breakfast bar, pulled out a stool and pushed her down, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “Figured we should keep our energy up.”

“Well, we worked up quite an appetite.” Jane inhaled the delicious aroma of bacon and eggs. “Thank you for this.”

“My pleasure, Lola.” James rolled the ‘l’ in her nickname, and the warmth in his tone sent another flutter of butterflies through her.

God, she’d forgotten how wonderful he made her feel.

They tucked into their breakfast with gusto, chatting about what they’d missed out on in each other’s lives in the past few months. She told him about her recovery, finding the house, and her debate about accepting the rank of Admiral and accepting a position on the Defence Committee in Vancouver. James told her about his accelerated N-School training and his upcoming graduation, as well as his promotion to the rank of Captain and command of the Normandy. It felt good to sit and chat with him again after avoiding him for so long, especially now that there was nothing between them anymore.

No more might haves or could haves, no burning sexual tension or things they wanted to say and do, but couldn’t.

“I still feel kind of strange being on the Normandy without you,” James admitted after a time, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. “I mean, the cabin still has your model ships up there and everything.”

Jane chased some bacon around her plate and smiled. “You’re the captain now, get used to it.”

“I know, but the Normandy was your ship. I think in some ways she always will be.”

“No, she’s yours now.” She put her fork down and stretched until her shoulders cracked. “Though if you want to return my model ships, I’m not going to complain. I don’t suppose my fish are still there? Or my hamster, Franklin?”

James laughed and pulled her into a hug. “I’m afraid your fish all died and your hamster passed away too, though he lived a long time for a space hamster. But my husk head is still alive.”

Jane rolled her eyes as she remembered the horrible shrieking head; she’d only tolerated it in her room because of James’ genuine delight in it. He was still grinning at her when she looked at up at him and she narrowed her eyes, shifting in her seat as she sensed he was amused by something.

“What is it?” she prompted him. “I know that smile.”

“You also left a photo by your bed.” His smile widened and Jane’s face flamed as heat rushed to her cheeks.

Oh God! She’d kept a photo of James by her bed on a whim! She’d forgotten about that photo - but of course he was the captain of the Normandy now, and he could have gone through everything in her room when he’d moved up there. Which meant he’d seen the photo and who knows what else! He’d probably suspected she’d had a crush on him all along; no wonder he’d kissed her when the Normandy had reached Earth.

“It was a cute photo,” she said lightly, trying and failing to keep a straight face as her cheeks continued to burn. “Does that mean you don’t keep any pictures of me?”

“Pictures of you?” he tilted her face up so she’d meet his eyes which were dancing with amusement, “Okay, Lola, you got me; I keep a photo of you too. A cute little photo of the two of us from your party on the Citadel. I also have the issue of Fornax with your tasteful pinup photoshoot in the N7 lingerie – it’s very, very sexy.” James slid an arm around her shoulders and his voice dropped an octave. “I have to admit; I like that you kept a photo of me.”

He leaned down and kissed her, his hands sliding down her shoulders and soothing away her embarrassment. Jane happily linked her armed around his neck; James tasted like bacon and coffee, and early mornings. It was a warm and happy kiss. The kind of kiss she’d always thought about sharing with him. When they pulled apart she was a little breathless and grinned stupidly up at him, somewhat appeased to see the same silly smile on his face.

“I really love you, you know,” James told her as he traced her face. “I don’t want this day to end.”

Jane stood up and gave him another quick kiss. “Yeah, but after today comes tomorrow and the day after and the day after that!”

“You might get sick of me,” he pointed out, helping her collect their dirty dishes and transporting them to the dishwasher. “You might wake up tomorrow and decide, 'yeah, that was fun. But I’d rather be alone again.’”

She raised an eyebrow shook her head. “Fat chance of that. Do you have any idea how miserable I was?”

“As miserable as me?” James caught her hand and tugged her towards him, his brown eyes serious as they searched hers. “I mean it Janey; I don’t want to scare you off again.”

Janey.

It was the second time today he’d called her that instead of Lola; she liked it. Jane closed the gap between them and snuggled up close.

“You’re not going to scare me off again,” she told him. “I love you too much.”

ARMS headcanons because why not

Spring Man actually loves pineapple on pizza. His fans go crazy online and a war breaks lose. Many memes are made. Half of the fighters feel betrayed, and the other half love him for it. He doesn’t get what the big deal is. Being the everyman he is, he’s extremely approachable, always does his best, and is determined beyond measure. He has an extremely doting mother and a young german shepard who cheer him on at home. He gets anxious about competitions easily when he feels doubtful or malnourished. He’s also extremely strong due to all his weight lifting and physical training. Many find themselves staring at his leg muscles in awe. They also find themselves playing with his springy hair. It can get a bit annoying since it takes so long to style.

Mechanica is a prodigy as she began engineering at the young age of 8. Her love for ARMS fighting inspired her mech. She loves all of the fighters, though obviously Ribbon Girl is her favorite. She’s always gushing and fangirling over everything they do, even while she’s facing them in battle. She’s also extremely afraid of loud noises like fireworks and thunder. Whenever she hears something startling, her first instinct is to hide in her mech, or when she’s not near it, behind Ribbon Girl. When neither options are available, she heads for Master Mummy, who is surely big enough to protect her.

Continuation of the last headcanon, Master Mummy pretends he’s extremely annoyed by this, when in reality he finds it very sweet as Mechanica reminds him a bit of his daughter. He grew up in ancient Egypt around 2700 B.C. and lived with his beloved family; his wife, two sons, and daughter. He acts aggressive and frightening, but he simply prefers solitude. He has a soft spot for children, and doesn’t refuse his young fans his attention. At times, he’s seen staring at an old dusty locket. No one has the heart to tell him that it’s been centuries since his family’s been alive.

Helix loves giving hugs. The reaction depends on who he’s hugging, but his gooeyness makes it pretty unpleasant. Most of the fighters don’t reject him though; they know he’s coming from a good place. He’s extremely curious, and often ends up breaking things because of his gelatinous body. He’s completely innocent, silly and clueless, making him a fan favorite among the audience. Nobody understands how exactly he was made except Biff, and even he doesn’t have a clear idea.

Twintelle makes the BEST tea anyone has ever tasted. Whenever anyone has trouble sleeping, staying up, or with anxiety, she always knows the perfect ingredients to brew just the right tea for any situation. Not even she has ANY idea why the power of ARMS ended up in her hair instead. She doesn’t mind, as she believes the curly look makes it very lovely. Though it can be a hassle during battle since her hair can get so unkempt from all the fighting.

Min Min also, unsurprisingly, makes the best ramen anyone’s ever tasted. She tries her best to make it as good as her mother’s, but feels she can never get it quite right, despite everyone telling her her dish is delicious already. She’s extremely fierce and competitive on the battlefield, despite her cute appearance and tone out of battle. Her dragon fist has an autonomous mode in which it’ll have a mind of its own, and it loves its owner dearly and is extremely powerful for her sake.

Cobra Kid not only does livestreams on skateboarding, but on gaming as well. His idol is Tony Hawk and he has his own pet snake. Since cobras are illegal to own as pets, he has a cute little corn snake instead. He’d never tell anyone, but he adores that snake to death.

Ribbon Girl seems like she’s good at everything; sports, dancing, singing, acrobatics. The truth is, she’s terrible at art. She can’t draw for the life of her. She also started her career when a video of her singing her favorite song while ribbon dancing went viral and received a lot of positive recognition. She treats Mechanica like a little sister. Sometimes she feels pressured to do well as to not disappoint her fans, and that with her young age can cause severe stress problems.

Byte and Barq were invented for the sole purpose of protecting the city, but a fault in Byte’s programming made him develop a passion for ARMS fighting. His creators, rather than fixing the program, found this as beneficial and equipped Byte with specialized ARMS. Barq was built right by his master’s side and remained loyal to him since. The two have an incredibly strong bond, as when they were first created, Barq was finished first due to his smaller size and simpler programming. He sat and waited for his owner to be completed for the next several weeks. Mechanica is extremely fascinated with both of the bots, while Spring Man adores Barq, as he reminds him of his own dog.

Ninjara’s favorite types of books to read are cheesy romance novels, though anyone who found out wouldn’t live to tell. He’s very quiet and antisocial, much preferring to keep to himself like a ninja would. The school he’s going to for training lies deep in the mountains of Japan. He wishes to become a ninja after his father, and his ARMS didn’t hinder that goal in the slightest, rather they made it stronger. He’s the absolute master of hide-and-seek. He enjoys observing the battles and training sessions of his fellow fighters while hiding in the shadows. Though it sounds malicious and seems like a way to learn his opponents’ weaknesses and gain the upper hand, he actually finds their fighting styles as a demonstration of their personalities. His observing is his own way of getting to know them better. Another large reason he became a ninja was because of his severe social anxiety. He’s extremely shy during conversation, and so chose a career path that would honor his father and require the least amount of human interaction.

Biff may be the announcer, but he acts like an enthusiastic coach toward all the ARMS fighters. He actually has a fan base of his own due to his enthusiasm and smooth voice. No one knows what exactly he is; whether he’s a short man in a costume or some kind of creature with a giant hand sticking out of his head. No one can bring it in themselves to ask him.