#femshack

[jacensolodjo]

Shane Shepard: I'm a baker. So you can say I'm an artist, too. I work in oils. Olive... sunflower... Jack: ...Corn. Shane: Yeah. Yes. That's me.

[imrryr]

“post the last few lines of your WIP" meme, courtesy of @stealthnoodle. Anyone who wants to do this absolutely should! :)

So I can’t post the last few lines because this doc I’m working on today is a giant mess of completed scenes, unconnected paragraphs, and random sentences that I typed in the vain hope that I can fit them in somewhere later, but here are two as yet unconnected bits of a scene from a Mass Effect Femshep/Jack story I’ve been working on for the past 84 years.

For context, it takes place on the Citadel in a sliver of time just before Priority: Earth. Shepard, Jack, and Zaeed have joined a tournament at the Armax arena while the Normandy is being refitted. The hard part has been trying to keep a humorous tone while all sentient life in the galaxy is being methodically wiped out by the Reapers ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

She’d never liked hospitals. Who did? Lots of judgmental doctors and nurses telling you where to go and what to do and who not to throw a shockwave at. Like sorry, but that fucking Cerberus trooper they had under guard fucking deserved it. Recognized that asshole from Grissom…

Anyway, this time she kept her hands firmly clasped behind her back and patiently ignored everyone who looked at her sideways until she found the door she was searching for.

And there was Zaeed, lying on a bed with his injured foot propped up on a pillow. Every free inch of his room, the wall, the tables, the chairs, was covered in bright flowers. The sight brought a big smile to her lips. It had to be Shepard’s doing.

He lay there, looking out the window and seemingly oblivious to the utter absurdity of his surroundings.

Unable to find a place to sit, Jack settled for the edge of the bed.

“Hey, careful,” he grumbled. He slid his foot, protected inside an enormous cast, as far away from Jack as possible.

She would’ve apologized, but eh...

Instead, Jack nodded in lieu of a greeting as she looked out on the Presidium. Hospitals still sucked, but she had to admit that Huerta Memorial had a pretty sweet view. The window made up one entire side of the room, and the gentle curving arc of the Presidium stretched out before her.

A minute passed. Things got quiet. She’d spoken to Zaeed alone a few times back in the good old suicide mission days. He’d wisely kept his mouth shut that first time she’d come on board – said nothing about her tattoos or what she chose to wear, and never once asked about any of the more prickly bits of her past life (i.e. any of it).

All taken together, it had elevated him to a spot on her ‘only kill if he gets in my way’ list.

When it was just the two of them, they tended to talk about… well, take a guess. It wasn’t horticulture. She frowned, scratching the back of her hand. Today was clearly proving to be a very strange day. “When’s the operation?”

Zaeed grumbled. “Tomorrow morning. Told them it’d better be over by nightfall. Don’t want to miss the match.”

“Really excited to see us lose, huh?”

“You’d better not. I’ve got fifty thousand credits on that match. Who’s replacing me anyway?”

“Some asari chick. Supposed to be famous on Thessia or something, I don’t know.”

“Huh. She any good?”

Jack shrugged. “If she isn’t, Shepard and I will just have to carry the weight ourselves. Nothing we haven’t done before.”

Zaeed grunted. “You’re real goddamn hilarious, you know that?”

(snip)

“Can I ask you something?”

His eyes – well, the good one at least – went wide as if that innocuous question alone had blown his mind.

Still, Jack pressed on. There wasn’t, after all, anyone else she could think to put the question to. “If you asked Shepard out, where would you take her?”

Surprisingly, the answer came without a second’s hesitation. “Easy. ‘This One’s House of Plentiful Amusements. It’s that new Hanar comedy club down on Zakeera Ward.’”

“A comedy club? Really?”  

“Yeah, I figure once I asked her out, she wouldn’t stop laughing for a good three or four hours. Might as well take her someplace appropriate, right?”

She let out a long breath. What was this, Give Sarcastic Advice to Jack Day? Gritting her teeth, she asked, “And what if it was me?”

“Uh…” he visibly swallowed, “No offense, but you’re not my type.”

Fuck you, Zaeed. “No, where would I take her out?”

“Oh.” His brow furrowed. “Don’t know? Someplace with a lot of goddamned explosions, I guess. Or, judging from a year of experience, just follow her around for a day and the explosions will come to you.”

Jack hummed in thought. True enough, she thought.

“You know,” he continued, “these painkillers must be really damned powerful, because I could swear that you’re asking me for relationship advice.”

Ugh. “Forget I said anything.”

Zaeed ignored her. “Everyone’s gone fucking respectable. Kasumi’s working on the Crucible, Garrus is a military advisor, and look at you, I bet you haven’t crashed a space-station into a moon in at least a month.”

Jack rolled her eyes. “No, but I’ve thought about it,” she said with a laugh. As far as the Citadel was concerned it might be an improvement. The trick would be finding a large enough moon.

“And me, I’m sittin’ here with my thumb up my ass.”

“It’s probably too late to be having a mid-life crisis, Zaeed.”

“It’s this goddamned bed,” he said, grunting as he tried to sit up. “Gives a man too much time to think. Damned nurse took away my omni-tool. He said ‘Towers of Hanoi‘ was going to give me an aneurysm.”

“Hmm. I’ll give Kasumi a call, maybe she can hook you up with something.”

He nodded, relieved. “Look,” he said, that good eye fixed on her. “I think you should do whatever keeps the team together. When Shepard puts something together, nothing in galaxy can stop it. Only way I see us winning this fucking war.” He stretched, adding in a yawn for good measure. “Besides, I’m hoping if Shepard lets me stick around long enough she’ll hook me up with a pension plan.”

Yeah, thanks, Zaeed. The sad thing was she could picture Shepard fighting the Alliance to set something like that up. A second suicide mission to rival the first.

“Haven’t had this much fun in years. Blowing shit up and feeling like a hero afterwards? Not used to that. Feels good, you know what I mean?”

Jack sighed. Yeah. It wasn’t the worst feeling in the world.

She could only think of one thing that would make it better.

[thedreadgay]

these girlfriends are gonna face the galaxy!! together!!!

(thanks to the me3 happy ending mod)

[n7-tech-geek]

[[By request from iseultshepard :) Hope you like.]]

[avvars]

  “so, what do you want on your virgin skin, commander?” she always said the title sarcastically, and it both infuriated and amused shepard to no end.

“i’m sure you’ll think of something.”

[dagna]

It's just gonna hurt. Or you'll mess around. Or I'll end up killing you or something.

[inquisitorkira]

Da heck...

Woah Jack shippers. You can't just ship that hunk of perfection with anyone. Think before you ship.

[jacensolodjo]

"Oh, my first time was in a weapons carrier!"

"Of course it was."

"I can't believe you don't even question it!"

"Why the fuck would I? You're you."

"Yeah and to quote you: you don't have to agree so fast, you fucker!"

That actually got an almost-giggle out of the heavily tattooed biotic.

"Alright, fine, Shane-y, let's hear the real lore, then."

Shane snorted and she gave a put-upon sigh.

"It was before I met Anderson, so I guess I was around 16. I think I was high on somethin'. Really, the weapons carrier story is a lot better. An' before you ask, first time was a girl but weapons carrier was a guy."

"Wasn't gonna. Didn't find it that important, Shepard. I'm just impressed you did it before getting into a uniform."

"Wh-- hey!"

Raucous laughter escaped that time before Shane pounced on Jack, perhaps to prove she had only gotten better with time.

[thedreadgay]

i’m gonna love you inside out || a female shepard/jack fanmix youtube || cover art

[unicorndraws]

In class doodles of the space girlfriends (I didn't have time for jacks tats and I'm lazy)

[iseultshepard]

S. "Maybe I do just want to peel you out of an Alliance uniform. That bother you?"

J. "Shut the fuck up and kiss me, perv."

S. "If you say so. ... ma'am."

[femshack]

Jack/Femshep ME3 Romance Masterpost

Some kindly soul uploaded videos of a Jack/Femshep romance in ME3 onto youtube, they're definitely worth a watch! There's subtitles for any missing Femshep lines.

Part 1 - Meeting at Grissom Academy

Part 2 - Talking at Grissom Academy

Part 3 - Leaving in the stolen shuttle

Part 4 - Meeting in Purgatory

That's all so far, if they put up the holovid conversation at the end of the game or any citadel dlc stuff, you'll be the first to know.

[alemongrenade]

Nice

(Don't fucking ask.)

Thing is, Shepard...I need you to stop being nice to me.

Seriously.

And I've tried pushing you away a little, tried putting some distance (a lot of distance, as much distance as I physically can) between us, but you're my friend, you were my friend before I ever fell in love with you, and I can't just not talk to you. I think I would shrivel up and die. And it sucks and it hurts and it would probably be a lot healthier for me to cut you out of my life completely and let myself heal, but I just can't. I just fucking can't, okay? I love you. Am I torturing myself, being near you and never with you forever and ever? Maybe. No, not maybe. Yes.

Yes, I am torturing myself, opening the same wounds over and over, because it fucking hurts when I watch you find happiness with someone else but I keep watching. I don't want it to hurt - it makes me feel like an asshole because if I love you, I'm supposed to wish happiness upon you, right? And I do, I swear I do! I want all the goddamn happiness in the galaxy to find its way to you, but if you don't mind...I'm going to be happy for you from a distance, okay?

I think it would be better if we were strangers, or if you hated or were indifferent towards me. It would be easier, at least. I hate that I resent the people you love, I hate that I feel like I could come to resent you as well. I like being your friend, I don't want to push these feelings onto you. Is this how those angry 'friend-zoned' dudebros feel? Maybe. I am not entitled to have you (or anyone or anything that I want) just because I want you, but I think enough years of this and I could really come to hate you because why don't you love me. I really, desperately don't want to go there - I don't want my feelings to sour and sink and turn. So I think I should stay away from you.

To be perfectly honest I could probably sooner 'stay away from' an arm or a leg, though. Those can be replaced or compensated for, but you...you're irreplaceable. And I'm sorry that I have these feelings and I'm sorry that I'm throwing them out here for the world to read, but maybe if I can get them out of me, if I can draw them out and cut them off, they'll die and then everything will be okay again. I don't want to want you, but I don't know how to stop.

And every step I take towards being myself feels like a step away from you, leaving me caught in the middle between knowing this is what I want from my life and knowing that I'm smothering even the tiniest, weakest, most remote chance that you and I could ever be something. That's a good thing, right? I'm supposed to want to move us apart. It doesn't feel like a good thing. But I can't sacrifice myself, the person I could (should) be, for the vague hope that someday you'll look up and suddenly realize that I've loved you for so fucking long that I'm dying inside. Maybe that means I don't love you enough. I hope so.

[elementnought-blog]

Safe

Title: Safe Rating: PG Characters: Jack, with a focus on thoughts about Shane. Warnings: This is incredibly feelsy and a bit fluffy. You have been warned.

Her earliest memory was waking up prematurely while being operated on, and soon finding herself in mind-numbing pain as the anesthetic faded away from her system. It hadn't exactly been a particularly good start to her days as a Cerberus lab rat. From then on, anytime she hurt footsteps, she would run, diving under her sorry excuse for a bed, or beneath her desk. Anywhere she could hide and, at least for a moment, feel safe.

As she got older, of course, and became more comfortable with her power, it became a bit easier to feel safe. Her biotics were her security blanket. She knew that if she rolled over to go to sleep and someone tried to mess with her, she could kill them in under a second with her mind alone. But still, every night, she went to bed with a tension in her chest, and an unevenness in her stomach. She wasn't safe. There was always someone after her, and in the end, she was always alone.

But then, something changed. Something happened. 

This thing, this person, who showed up out of nowhere in this ship flying the colors of an organization that haunted her dreams and set her on the very edge. This woman that worked for those very people that both infuriated the biotic and made her feel like a scared little girl needing someone to hold her. 

That affiliation alone was all Jack had needed to hate the scarred, supposedly 'undead' Commander right off the bat. She was Cerberus, no matter what she said. She answered to the Illusive Man, took his money. That was enough for Jack to hate her, to distrust her. 

She laid in that cot down in the subdeck, as far from the woman's cabin as she could get without being in the shuttle bay, and every night she was going to bed with that some tightness in her chest, an uncertainty about if she'd wake up in the same bed the next morning, or if one day, she'd find herself back in a Cerberus lab, handed over like a piece of equipment for study.

But she never did. And each day that she woke up in her small cot in the dark, she began to trust the other woman that much more.

She hated it. She tried not to trust her. But the feeling of, for once, being somewhere safe, being able to relax between firefights with the Collectors... it appealed to Jack in a way that she couldn't ignore, no matter how she tried. 

But, of course, there was still that feeling lingering in her chest every night, caused by years of being used and hurt and abused by those she'd begun to trust. Frankly, she didn't think that feeling would ever go away. It would haunt her the rest of her life, just like the memories that kept her awake. 

And yet, somehow, it had.

Somehow, this person, this woman, had become,...  much more than that. Somehow, without even trying, she'd managed to take each and every one of Jack's unspoken insecurities and destroy them. She'd managed to take this angry, beaten, scarred creature, and nurse her back to a healthy state of mind that she hadn't felt in years. She'd never once judged Jack, she simply accepted her for who she was--the flawed individual who had shaved off most of her hair and covered her body in layers of ink. But she hadn't babied her or pitied her, either. She treated Jack as an equal: No more, no less. To everyone else in her life, Jack was either one thing or another--A cruel, psychotic thug with a desire to kill, or an all-powerful creature to be fawned over. But to this woman, she was just,... human. Flawed, and perfect because of that. 

That only became all the more clear to the young, now-instructor as time went on, when she began to realize that this woman was more than just someone she could trust. She was a friend. She was a true friend. A best friend--a best friend who practically overnight became a lover before either could stop it. Of course, not that either wanted to. Especially not Jack.

Sleeping high up in the cabin, the room she'd once avoided like the plague, with her body pressed close to the Commander's, was the first time she'd ever felt truly safe. Secure. 

She laid in bed beside the woman, awake, though the other was fast asleep, likely from a long day of work that Jack would never hear the details about. She stared at the woman, her eyes tracing the glowing lines of the Commander's scars that had truly always fascinated the younger biotic. They were jagged, and ugly to most, but to Jack, they were,.. beautiful. They were a reminder that this woman wasn't perfect. That she made hard decisions, but lived with them every day. 

She slid closer to the other after a moment of simply staring through half-lidded, tired eyes. One of her legs shifted on the bed, nudging itself to tangle between the Commander's own gently. When the other woman didn't stir, she continued, moving a hand to take the other's wrist of the arm not tucked beneath a pillow, moving it slowly to drape around her waist limply. The Commander began to wake after that, but Jack didn't care. Instead, she simply moved, a hand sliding up so she could slowly run an index finger over the other's cheek, tracing those scars she'd grown to love rather quickly. She glanced over the other's once again properly sleeping face, an odd gentleness to her eyes that rarely existed. It wasn't long after that before she was simply tucking her head beneath the other woman's jaw, a sleepy grin appearing on her lips as her hand dropped to the other's chest, palm pressing gently against a breast, which considering their size, was a comfortable resting spot. Her body was flush against the Commander's after that, sharing their warmth and comfort with one another as the younger finally began to properly relax

As she did most nights, she felt,... safe. 

And it was all thanks to that woman she'd hated. It was all thanks to Shane.

[jacensolodjo]

“Nice? It’s not about nice. On this one bad drop on Palaven, I had to pull Rodriguez out from under a pile of husks. If I hadn’t recognized her ugly fucking boot, I wouldn’t have seen her. She would’ve died under there.”

[jacensolodjo]

"You know, for all the shit we've been through, we've had a damn good ride."

"The best."