#Reply.

[unhetalia]

it’s the body headcanon anon again!

this one is a doozy. i apologize.

First, i read ur post about fatphobia like a ravenous animal. wonderful. trying not to let me be derailed. fists gripping the table cloth teeth clenched shaking. Second i took a health & wellness course like 2 years ago & this has been sitting in my notes app since. Half of this doesn’t even make sense to me anymore. & I think some of the data is outdated, like ik there’s more research into mechanical damage now. im lazy. Shrug.

I LOVE the idea that America is only mildly toned. Not really muscular, not overtly chubby, but certainly soft around the edges. I’m going to blab now.

I don’t think Ame is biologically capable of building much muscle. He's not incapable, but it would be significantly more difficult. Ame is naturally super strong; weight doesn’t seem to affect him, & when it does, it’s very minimal. Being unable to lift weights as a means to bulk & build muscle is a HUGELY DEBILITATING PROBLEM.

Building muscle is what fills out your physique. There’s a lot of different things that can go into muscle building, hypertrophy, & he quite literally can’t do half of them. He can’t lift weights, bc weight lifting only works to build muscle bc it’s helping to achieve mechanical damage & metabolic fatigue (& he does it like breathing. clearly not fatiguing anyone.) Progressive overload would be borderline impossible, as adding weight is once again out of the question & increasing reps will at some point no longer be conceivably possible. It’s complicated! He’d probably have to rely on things that would be considered toning, rather than bulking. “Toning” (vague term tbh, very loose) develops lean muscle & reduces your body fat through lifting moderate weights & stretching. Repetition & endurance is more what makes toning work, exhausting the muscles to achieve metabolic fatigue. This would be the sort of strength training that’s probably possible, but even then, only to a certain extent.

He can’t really do exercises that are… “outside his own body”. Like, he could probably do squats, lunges, planks, things that are his body and his body alone. He can’t really do push-ups or pull-ups, since that’s just lifting weight again. But maybe he’s only really strong if his whole body is involved, so exercises like that could work if it’s just his arms or legs doing the work? Maybe he’s able to do resistance/strength training on one part of his body at a time? Maybe he can build the strength in individual limbs, but it’s gotta max out at some point? I thought maybe he could use bands for resistance, but then I thought about it more, & damn that’s kind of just lifting weights again! He’d probably break the damn things! Or cut off his blood circulation before it actually gave him any proper resistance…

this all leads into my headcanons about his body and what it’s capable of but this is already too long. Ok. Sorry for coming into ur inbox with half an essay. thank u for having me.

oh my god NEVER APOLOGISE. It's so fascinating to think of America being unable to build muscle due to his own 'powers'. I've never thought of this and I'm absolutely incorporating it into my own headcanons.

Soft America has always been my bread and butter (both in body and personality). Thank you for giving me something else to chew on regarding that.

[yingren]

@lightning-etc-lord ( cont. )

Confessions are like razor-sharp claws scraping at what remains of his soul, attempting to see if there is something left there or if his core will crumble like dried paint and scatter with the wind. He does not know how to respond, how to properly take it in. 

Everything is undeniably different when he is with Jing Yuan. The man is a thief for aeons sake, a criminal, one that stole the warmth from every star in the universe and planted it in his own soft gaze. Ren hates that look as much as he adores it, cherishes it and yearns to be on the receiving end of it. He wants to protect it from all of the harm in the world, hide it from prying eyes and keep it all to himself; but he can’t & because of that he is inconsolable. Perhaps that is why Jing Yuan’s next words feel more like daggers than comfort, like venom that Ren has to digest without completely losing his mind.

“Substitute... Jing Yuan, do not say such foolish things unless your aim is to make me cross with you.” 

A fair warning stated with a finger pressed against the old general’s chest. He gives him a shove although light in his touch, careful not to push him away too far. 

“You cannot substitute something or someone that you are so vastly different from. Besides, there is not a part of me that yearns for him. The insinuation is foul, dear General.” He pauses, his stare softening into that of a saddened gaze. Even indifference can’t save him now it seems. 

“I feel as though it would only be a waste of your time.” Not quite, he shuts his eyes and refocuses. “No. I mean, as though I would only be a waste of your time.”

[dnangelic]

@cherriedrage : FUCK YOU AND FUCK THAT SHE'D RATHER WEAR THE DAMN DRESS . OR BETTER YET /YOU/ BETTER SAY MO--/THAT DUMBASS SHIT/ YOU WANT HER SAYIN' 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

' ... ' thinking . thinking .

( ... he can work with this . )

' wear it , then . no going back on your word , right ? '

[cosmicangst]

Hello! Do you have any favorite romance novels to recommend that are not YA? Thanks!

OH THE PANDORAS BOX YOUVE OPENED ANON ehem a not so exhaustive list

historical romance (this is my main genre so there's more books here)

bringing down the duke and a rogue of one's own by evie dunmore - part of a series but both can be read as stand-alones. victorian period ft suffragettes. the second one in particular is my absolute favorite. it's very Gender with an insouciant dandy and an ambitious activist leader, both lonely and stubborn.

the brothers sinister series (especially the countess conspiracy) and the turner trilogy by courtney milan - will admit i read these books a bit ago so i don't remember much of the details only to say that courtney is a brilliant romance writer so i automatically trust her any time i read her books. she makes the unromantic very romantic in a very grounded way. for example in one of the brothers sinister books, the couple has sex for the first time and it turns out to be understandably mediocre. but this becomes a starting off point that actually brings them closer together. i just love the touch of realism and imperfection she brings in a genre that's built off of heightened emotions and almost fantastical perfection in relationships.

the devil comes courting by courtney milan - separate rec because this is part of another series which i haven't fully read yet. but i just had to add this because i find it remarkably unique among the genre. the events span years (rather than the shortened time frame of most romance novels) and a large part of the courtship is epistolary. it's also interracial and does not feature a white person! (heroine is chinese and hero is black.) one of those hr books that is equally historical fiction as it is romance and explores a period that i think hasn't been touched upon as much yet.

a week to be wicked by tessa dare - the best romcom-y hr ive read! it's a zany road trip with a romance that happens so gradually it really does sneak up on you which is the best kind.

the belle of belgrave square by mimi matthews - marriage of convenience. read this recently and every plot beat was absolutely perfect. the reveals, the commitment between them, everything just made sense. nothing was extraneous.

convergence of desire by felicity niven - also marriage of convenience. I LOVE THIS HEROINE. she's on the spectrum and he has a toxic relationship to sex. he is absolutely not attracted to her in the beginning but the honesty she gives to him while she pursues her own ambitions has him absolutely at her feet by the end.

my deceitful duchess by aydra richards - nerdy virgin ass hero which is a breath of fresh air from all these alpha males. has one of the best grovels over a misunderstanding that absolutely makes sense and isn't contrived 👌👌👌

when beauty tamed the beast by eloisa james - read this a long time ago but this is the first romance book i read so i have a lot of fondness over it. a kind-of retelling of beauty and the beast. top notch banter.

suddenly you by lisa kleypas - older heroine and younger hero! virgin spinster and novelist starts a fwb relationship with her publisher. a bit dated but still a fun read.

devil in winter by lisa kleypas - oh very dated but a classic amongst the romance community. marriage of convenience. the hero sebastian is both loved and reviled (and rightfully so i think) by his readers but i just have so much fondness for evie and the way she absolutely does not give a shit about how intimidating he is.

a rogue by any other name by sarah maclean - childhood friends reunite years later. read this a loooong time ago and i don't remember much except he does the absolute most to push her away because of Revenge reasons and the fallout from that is delicious

a lady's guide to fortune hunting by sophie irwin - MY CURRENT LOVE. enemies to lovers with my favorite heroine. she is cunning and scheming and absolutely shameless without being a complete asshole. the hero is also equally savvy enough to match her wit and catch onto her grift. the interplay between them of trying to outscheme the other is hilarious and delightful.

contemporary:

georgie, all along by kate clayborn - sweet, slow romance where the drama happens around the couple rather than between them except for the very end and even that is handled pretty maturely. not a big fan of third act breakups in general unless it's for a very good reason so this one sidesteps that by not prolonging it.

against a wall by cate c. wells - small town enemies to lovers. one of those read with your pussy books. hero is kind of a dumb brick but he knows it and owns it and i admire him for it. heroine is the town pariah and spoilers he literally fights the whole town for her sake. get you a man!

the kiss quotient and the bride test by helen hoang - both feature leads on the spectrum. i've seen criticism regarding how she handles neurodivergent characters but reading her author's note, i can tell she definitely pulls a lot from her own experiences being on the spectrum herself so i don't really understand the crit tbh. kind of veers to melodrama a little at the very end but i eat that shit up

the hating game by sally thorne - overexposed now in the rec circles but still a mainstay for a reason. enemies to lovers workplace romance with two leads that are kind of deranged which i love. great prose, great banter.

the billionaire's wake-up call girl by annika martin - billionaires have no rights but just suspend your head for a sec. they could have made him a millionaire and functionally nothing would've changed. anyway also a yummy enemies to lovers with a case of mistaken identity.

well met by jen deluca - kind of like georgie, all along in that the heart of it is just two very normal people falling in love in a very normal way that feels true to life. setting is a renaissance fair which is delightful.

kiss an angel by susan elizabeth phillips - dated as all hell and has some troubling parts with a batshit premise. but the last several chapters honestly make the book and i reread it from time to time so im obligated to include it on this list.

bass-ackwards by eris adderly - okay TW on workplace harassment BUT JUST READ PAST CHAPTER TWO I PROMISE. if it's still not your cup of tea totally understand but anyway... er, workplace romance.

people we meet on vacation by emily henry - ive described this book before as when harry meets sally if harry and sally were making a travelogue. the best friends to lovers pining is actually painful.

other/kinda out there:

radiance by grace draven - arranged marriage interspecies romance! i love this one because both of them thinks the other is actually very ugly so they fall in love purely through their friendship.

transcendence by shay savage - OK LMAO hear me out: caveman and a modern human sent back in time due to shenanigans all from the caveman's pov. the premise is batshit and it's obvious which fandom this was originally a fanfic for if you think about it for more than a second but this author makes it work???? have no fucking clue how she did it but by god she absolutely did

last light by claire kent - apocalypse romance. kind of road trip with survival elements. again i just love unlikely romances where the couple isn't that attracted to each other from the start and having that gradually change through time in a way thats not signposting to the audience.

ghost walk by cassandra gannon - funniest shit ever. ghost who died in the revolutionary era meets a psychic who works as a walking tour guide and recovering from a nervous breakdown. absolutely ridiculous and over the top. insta love which i normally dont like but this was so campy and fun i didn't even care

all cishet but you can find my queer recs here

[pandcmoniums]

Jiraiya’s lips quiver slightly as he stops himself from leaping over to Orochimaru. The white-haired Sannin desperately wants to pull his former teammate close to him — in fact, he needs nothing more than Orochimaru in his arms. The pain in his soul is too much for him to bear alone, and not even Tsunade’s hearty rejections can distract him from it much longer. Jiraiya tosses his kunai aside with an audible ‘tch’ sound before storming over to his old friend, hand reaching out to grab the pale snake’s shoulder to turn him around so they’re facing each other. He needs to look into Orochimaru’s eyes when he says this next part . . .

❛ 𝙄 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙩, 𝙮𝙚𝙨 ! 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 . . . 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ! ❜

The Toad Sannin would never betray his village in the way Orochimaru had — he doesn’t have a villainous bone in his body — yet Jiraiya also feels betrayed not only by his buddy’s illegal experiments on residents of Konoha, but by the lack of invitation to join him in exile. Not having the ability to save Orochimaru like he’d originally promised has frustrated him more than anything.

❛ 𝙄 𝙧𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙖𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ! ❜

❀ ⸻ 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑼𝑬𝑫 𝑹𝑬𝑷𝑳𝒀 𝑭𝑶𝑹 . . . @sagemom

[halofcrged]

@orphanedshadow continued from [x] Everything was so fascinating. The creature could feel its…no her vessel, the wispy tendrils flowing from her scalp, the strange limbs, the way the hunger collected in her core instead of spreading through every cell. It was all so stable, not like she was constantly falling apart and pulling herself together. Of course her other form was there, it would take only a thought to allow this odd scaffolding to return to being undifferentiated cells… but why would she, when this form was so new and exciting. The creature didn't really realize that the noises she was making were audible, not when her newly-formed senses were echoing with the sound of her own shadowy blood rushing through her veins. But the growling felt good, it made things rumble in new ways, and opening her mouth let her taste things, like the cellular fluid that dripped down her face in bloody trails. It also revealed far too many extremely sharp teeth, not that she realized it meant anything. She was so caught up in the sensations that it took a moment to register the sounds of her kin's attempt at communication. With her mind feeling clearer than ever it only took a second for her to try and copy one of the signals he always used, clumsy fingers, actual fingers, how fascinating, attempting to signal that it was all clear, no threats present.

There was very little about the last few days of his life that made a great deal of logical sense to him right about now; maybe, one day, after he had the time necessary to process how he'd gone from being transported from the Halo to this once Covenant controlled world, to fighting for his life against the remnant creatures of the Flood that had somehow managed to survive and perpetuate themselves here for ... decades, centuries? to ... watching the inky shapeless entity that he'd dubbed Rex in honor of his childhood dog sink into a vat of goop and come out .....

Human shaped?

Maybe. One day, very very far from now, he might have all the pieces he needed to put the particulars of this puzzle together.

The creature had started out as little more than a shapeless entity, the feeling of eyes on him that he couldn't shake. Only after he'd winged it with a spray of bullets had it even taken any form that he could recognize as anything other than shadows and he still wasn't entirely clear as to why it hadn't retaliated and tried to eat him, and instead, settled for consuming the Flood entity that had been moments away from trying to swallow him whole, but here they were.

He'd taken to talking to it, maybe just to keep him a little more sane, maybe to convince himself that there was some kind of sentience in there for his own comfort. It hadn't taken him long to realize that maybe there actually was.

By the time they'd made it to the safety of the underground bunker of the original owners of the foundry, he'd accepted that he was stuck with it -- and it hadn't been the worst partnership he'd ever found himself in, though maybe the most unlikely.

He'd watched, equally wary and fascinated, as the entity had slurped its way out of the vat of ... nutrients, that it had consumed, fascinated by the attempt it had made to find form and function. Or at least form. The helmet that he'd removed on entering the safety of the bunker was recording everything. He expected Cortana would have much to say about this later on. "Right." His brow furrowed a little as fingers formed, and conveyed a response. "Right." Definitely not a dog.

"No biting. That seems like a good first ground rule," John said. "You don't bite me, and I won't bite you." Sounded like a good plan.

"I'm John. John 117." He tapped a finger to the number on his suit. "Do you have a ... designation? A name?"

[abrushwithdeath]

“You enjoying the view over there?”

@itscyclops

@itscyclops

Rogue couldn't help but chuckle a bit at the question. "Is it that obvious?" She asked. She'd been watching him workout, enjoying the show. Initially she'd come in here to do a workout of her own, but Scott seemed so into it that she didn't want to disrupt him. "Don't stop on account'a me, sugah. Yer form's lookin' real good." More outwardly she was, of course, referring to the form he was using while lifting the weights. But on a maybe-less-subtle-than-she-thought note, she was also definitely commenting on his body, in general.

[korck]

If he had cheeks to pout with– he'd be pouting SO hard right now. Oaki's twig arms cross, and he turns away from the man.

How DARE he have actual muscles. How DARE he make the spirit look weak. What a big bastard!!

" You're... cheating. "

@bleedinghearth continued from here.

[benbraeden]

"Awwwwwwwwwwww! That's so cute!"

ben rubs at the sleepiness that clings to him, having just woken up from slumber before throwing on the first thing that he found before meeting with the others in the kitchen. his finger presses against the corner of his eye, desperate to wipe away the drowsiness, but suddenly like a shot of espresso, he catches a glimpse of @sarahbraeden in the corner of his eye and immediately, his spine stiffens.

he swallows thickly, tries to find some excuse to where he forgets something in his room, offers some semblance of a sheepish smile, before disappearing behind the curtains. instinctively, he drags a hand down along his features and curse inwardly for his brazen awkwardness; palpable that he can touch it. when sarah winds around the corner with her own chimes of how cute it was, he immediately groans. "stop," he nearly growls before grabbing some rag that was nearby to help out in her kitchen, busying himself and his hands so that he doesn't have to go back out there to face a girl that he can't help but think is beautiful.

[foxgloev]

The air in the greenhouse was almost muggy. Jade made a mental note to check on the moisture and temperature controls herself when she had a moment free. Outside this small green sanctuary, trees and blooms were preparing for dormancy. They were not quite on the cusp of winter just yet, but when each day seemed to pass in less than the known twenty - four hours, it was hard not to look too far ahead and swear the taste of fresh frost was already in the air. The wedding was just around the corner now. It was no time to play coy any longer.

With her arms crossed over her chest, Jade followed Vi about with her gaze, giving the other woman a pointed look as she tried to evade the question. It's taken her some immense effort to keep herself from feeling pity for the young heiress; she knew how Vivianne would despise it and, by extension, her. She, instead, turned her pity towards the tulips, watching as Vivianne poured and poured into the damp soil. It wasn't hard to imagine that outpouring as something other than water.

...SO, WHY ARE YOU PLAYING THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE? / @rosetem, CONT.

The ghost of a smile appeared on Jade's lips. She fought against a full, smarmy smile; Lucille had suggested to her, recently and none too subtly, that she might try for a little sensitivity moving forward. Liam Quinn was a lot of things, but a devil, he was not. If she was an advocate for anything or anyone, it was their team and the sense of belonging it offered. " It's because we don't get along that you should believe me when I tell you that he does care about you. He wants to help, he just doesn't know how. " Jade reached out and gently laid her hand on Vivianne's wrist, prompting her to stop drowning the poor tulips. The pot was only a few seconds away from overflowing.

" Don't give up on yourself. And don't give up on him either. He would follow you to the ends of the earth, Vi, but only if he knew you wanted him to. Does that---- Am I making sense? "

[unhetalia]

going off your post about alfred and tony, i also think that’s the same reason why Alfred also gets attached to humans a lot more than other nations. with inevitably tragic consequences

Love and hate the thought of Alfred facing a Davie situation over and over again.

I definitely see Alfred as the type to live among his people more-so than the other Nations. He chats to the barista who serves his coffee. He frequents small towns where people get to know each other because he prefers the intimacy, so of course he gets attached.

I'm interested in what happens when these people who absolutely get attached to Al right back realise their town can-fix-everything-and-brings-the-best-food-at-potluck guy hasn't aged in five years. I like the idea they all just pretend that's absolutely normal, yessiree.

I wonder if Alfred moves on when the people he loves die? I weirdly don't think Alfred's the type to attach himself to a family (which is what Arthur's done with his royals). I think it's always a type of individual or people he's attracted to. Close-knit small towns. If he's in a big city, a few people who are odd and warm and need a helping hand. Lots to think about!

[absensia]

THERE COULD BE NO LYING TO OR HIDING FROM THAT ABSENCE THAT LIVED WITHIN HER; THE GOOD DOCTOR'S OBSERVATION DID GIVE THE VESSEL PAUSE. WAS IT MEANT TO BE A THRILL? A DELIGHT OR A GOOD SIGN, PERHAPS... THAT THIS BODY COULD BE PROVEN AS REAL, AFTER ALL? OR WAS IT A SIGN OF TROUBLE? INDIGNATION, EVEN, THAT SHE SHOULD ONLY BE REAL WHEN SHE BLEEDING, DYING, OR BOTH?

BLOOD WAS ESSENCE; BLOOD, IT SEEMED, WAS ULTIMATELY LIFE ITSELF. THE LOSS OF IT RENDERED HER PALER THAN USUAL AND THE COLD SUNLIGHT THAT PICKED APART HER IMAGE, DECAYING IT BEFORE THE DOCTOR'S EYES, HARDLY HELPED.

Yet outwardly, Charlotte did not pause nor hesitate. Not for a moment did she indulge the doctor with a look of surprise or shock, for she had come bearing other gifts and those would have to do. Her smile only grew, warm and friendly, as if she expected nothing less from the extraordinary man laying, wounded, in the hospital bed before her. There were no hard feelings, she'd hoped, for what were a couple of murder attempts between friends who understood the value of curiosity, satiation, and the art of trial and error.

From the light that bathed her, she pulled out her gifts: twirled about her right hand was a pretty, silky ribbon, pulled taut by the helium - filled balloon floating near the ceiling. The balloon was perfectly puffed and the exact shade of sunny yellow that no one save for little children could love. It smiled down at the doctor. In her hand, or rather, in the crook of her arm, was a handsome teddy bear in a chef's uniform, no less. This, Charlotte sat at the foot of Lecter's bed so that it, too, could smile at him.

" I won't die from mine, " she replied, making quick work of tying the balloon string onto the arm of a nearby chair. " You might've from yours. . . but you didn't! Even if you did get close. Did you get close? Did you see the light? Or, uh, what's the other one. . . feel the flames? "

Without waiting for an invitation, for it was a fool's errand to wait for something which would assuredly never come, Charlotte hopped up onto the bed, seating herself at the doctor's feet. The bed had been raised high enough that she had enough space to allow her legs to dangle. The agent began to kick her feet at a languid tempo. " When do you think we can try again? " she asked, gaze flickering down at his sewn - up forearms. / @monstroum, CONT.

[softietrait]

hello! i assume you are a cat person 😊

you're absolutely correct!! heh, i have a kitty named Khaos, too! <3

[dnangelic]

@unmeinoniwa : theo looking at him in absolute horror "... so you were actually a bird?"

stares blankly . ' ... yes . '

eyes suddenly shift to the left . ' --- no . '

eyes suddenly shift to the right. ' yes. '

[cosmicangst]

22 had shakarian all over it ❤️

22. two miserable people meeting at a wedding au (prompt me here!)

word count: 5802

+

Shepard wasn’t the type to exaggerate but would it be such a stretch for her to say that she would rather be facing another thresher maw again than endure this reception?

It wasn’t even the reception itself or the concept of socializing. But she had been running on fumes, having traveled from Alliance Headquarters via a scrambled last minute hitchhike on an industry ship to even arrive on the Citadel on time. And the ceremony, while meaningful, and its celebrants, while beloved, weren’t enough to sustain what Anderson called her “military poster face”. She could face a horde of enemies with no sleep but maintaining her public-facing charisma required a different strength. Not like she had any excuse. It wasn’t as if she was on active duty or had anything to justify why she missed her initial shuttle and had to wait at the intermediary depot for the next one.

Somehow, getting waylaid by batarians seeking to swindle her out of her credits in a round of poker, engaging in a friendly shootout when she out-hustled them despite their tricks, and buying out a bar in celebration afterward didn’t seem like a good enough excuse.

Hence, the hangover. Hence, the missed flight. Hence, the lack of sleep.

And hence, why she was tucked at the corner where the bar was situated with only a silently brooding turian guest with blue face markings at the other end and Vilk, an even quieter elcor bartender, behind the bartop for company. She had broken her self-imposed no-drinking rule and opted to nurse a healthy glass of red as she kept her distance and tried not to look too much like she spent the previous cycle shit-faced.

But perhaps she had not fully succeeded.

Several guests had lingered nearby to catch a glimpse of the infamous Shepard, whose face and exploits had been plastered on screens and datapads for the past month. They all looked curious, but none seemed inclined to approach. Maybe the huge, still-healing scar on her face was a deterrent. Which didn’t quite make sense considering that half of the guests were turians.

So she people-watched, distantly amused that the bride’s mainly turian entourage was forced to intermingle with the eclectic mix of species on the groom’s side. Like with so many of her contacts, she had met and befriended Atvius amid battle, the latter unwittingly captured during a literal milk run. His two-man ship containing food stocks from Thessia had been commandeered by a ragtag group of scavengers and Anderson had sent Shepard and a small retinue to answer the distress call. Atvius who had the mandatory training of turians his age almost held his own but had been quickly overtaken when he was caught by a particularly grabby krogan. Shepard had arrived just in time with her Claymore and as such, earned an odd friendship and a lifetime’s worth of free levo meals at his bistro in exchange.

Atvius was what his fellows and foes called an aberrant. And that was the friendliest translated term for it. He was disowned by family in all but name, an easy-going bastard who detested fighting. Barefaced in spirit, they called him, he had found his discipline instead in cooking and had chosen to dedicate his life to serving food for all species. Shepard liked him immensely.

It was a real surprise when she had been sent a wedding invitation informing her that he would be marrying another turian. The surprise specifically not that he would be marrying within his species but that another turian would be so accepting. And from what she had gathered about the bride, Livia seemed to have a heritage and reputation of respectability that the groom lacked. What compelled her family to tolerate the union, Shepard couldn’t guess. But she was unsure whether the initial strain of the reception was a genuine product of this sentiment from the bride’s side or just a “turians having a stick up their ass” thing. The fact that Atvius didn’t seem inclined to stick to formalities perhaps didn’t help in any case.

Shepard did not know how turian weddings worked but she was almost certain that the vows and a Top 40 rendition he had whipped out in the middle were certainly not part of the tradition but a product apparently improvised from his absorption of human TV pop culture. Livia seemed charmed though. Atvius was subversive but he was one she seemed deep in love with. Perhaps, that was the trick of it—why none had been able to disrupt such an oddball match.

The answer as simple as that.

Shepard downed her drink. She would have marveled at the romance of it had her head not been throbbing and her throat cottoned with a heaviness that had not just been born from last night.

“You’re Commander Shepard, right?”

Seemed she spoke too soon and someone had gathered enough nerve. She even pulled a not-pissed-off expression when she turned and faced the inebriated man who had swaggered to the bar seat next to hers with a cocky grin.

“That’s right. And you are?”

“People have been staring at you since you arrived,” he said, not answering her question.

Shepard raised an unamused eyebrow. The guy’s tone implied that he seemed more excited that people were watching him talk to Shepard than being interested in actually talking to her.

“Have they now.”

“Well, can’t blame them, right? You and Akuze have been top news for a while now.”

“Hm.”

“So… is it all true then?”

“What?”

“What people have been saying.”

“Oh? What have they been saying?” Shepard leaned closer and something to the effect of having her scar up close seemed to make the man falter for a moment.

“Uh, all sorts of things. Like that you’ve been discharged because you pushed the other soldiers in the way of the attack so you wouldn’t get targeted,” he trailed off, sounding less sure.

Shepard weighed her potential responses carefully. Nearly all of them didn’t seem conducive to maintaining the down-low presence she had wanted for the couple’s sake. She didn’t think that either of them would appreciate her inciting a brawl on their special day.

“You really want to know the truth?”

Some spark ignited behind the fogginess of alcohol, and he nodded without trying to look too eager.

“It’s true, you know. Everything that people have been saying,” she continued, dropping her voice for effect. “But that wasn’t the worst of it. We fought for days but it only took me an hour to realize that I wouldn’t be getting out of it if I played fair.”

“Fair?”

“I used them as bait. My lieutenant was the first to be grievously injured. I mean, they were going to die anyway, right? The ones that were eviscerated to pieces were the most useful because I could throw their extremities in multiple directions as a distraction and attack the sons of bitches from the other side. Of course, the maws quickly caught on to my grift. I was already running out of corpses to use, and it’s a real pain sawing for more limbs. I know the others all like to call us humans soft flesh bags, but meat and bone are a real mess to detach even with a good omni-blade. I could only hide under the remaining bodies and bide my time until they retreated for the night. At that point, it was just a waiting game. Rinse and repeat for several days afterward. My only real regret was that I didn’t get to burn down that entire nest. What I would give to go back and make sure they felt a sliver of the torture we all went through. I’d tear them to pieces the same way with my bare hands and teeth if I could.”

She punctuated this with a matter-of-fact finish of her drink before turning back to the now silent man with a smile that was all teeth and politeness.

“Anything else you want to know?”

“N-No. Uh, that was very…informative.”

“I’d be happy to provide more details.”

“No, that’s all right.” He quickly stood, seemingly soberer now. “I actually have to meet up with some people…over there. But, um, it was very nice talking to you.”

Shepard watched the quickly departing figure with a smothered laugh and flagged down Vilk for another glass as a little reward. She knew that it wasn’t wise to exacerbate the rumors that had been spreading since the Alliance had kept tight-lipped over the details in their public copy. But if anyone was going to exploit her ordeals, it might as well be her.

“Nicely played.”

She turned to her left and found the quiet turian had broken from his stupor and was now tipping his glass to her in a toast.

“Who says it was a play?”

“Just a guess. But I’ve learned that Atvius only makes friends with shit stirrers.”

“I could have been invited by the bride.”

“Nah. I know Liv and everyone she invited. Anyone with your name would have stood out in the guest list.”

“Oh, a close friend of hers then?”

“A friend of both.” He leaned forward to stretch out a hand and Shepard was so surprised he was making such a human gesture that she didn’t immediately take it. “Garrus Vakarian.”

His hand was uncovered due to his formal clothing, and it felt just as warm and leathery as she would have imagined. She’d never touched another turian’s skin before in a non-combat setting.

“Shepard.”

“That was the right procedure, yeah?” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve seen enough humans do it in my line of work but I never actually got the chance to do it myself until now.”

“Hmm…I’ll give you a 7 out of 10.”

“Damn. Tough crowd. Was it my form? It was my form, wasn’t it?”

Shepard bit back a smile. “You gripped hard enough to bruise my hand. Which isn’t a bad show of intimidation but not appropriate for a casual, friendly greeting.”

“I’ll take note.” He made a show of typing on his omni-tool. “Don’t…break…human’s…hand.”

She did laugh this time. His lighthearted demeanor seemed so in contrast to his previous brooding mood when she had first taken her spot two seats away from him. It was curious.

“Unless you’d been planning to intimidate me all along, it’s a good tip to keep handy,” she drawled.

“Ha. Don’t know how much intimidation I could do after hearing that story you gave out.”

“I stretched the truth a little,” she offered lightly. Because the truth was, in actuality, much, much worse. But no one else needed to know that but her.

Shepard had never made a point to study turians’ eyes before but even two seats away, his stood out in the low lights with a brilliant shade of blue that seemed to sidestep her lies. Like he knew exactly what she was not saying and he seemed to have enough daring to face the truth of it.

If she was anyone else but herself, she would have fidgeted under such casual and piercing scrutiny. Instead, she kept her stare direct and waited.

But instead of averting his gaze or prodding her for more intrigue, he exchanged his seat for the one directly next to hers and said out of nowhere, “Much as I respect the guy’s skills, Atvius still doesn’t know how to source his alcohol correctly. His horosk is diluted as all hell. No offense, Vilk.”

“Good-natured teasing. No offense taken, Officer Vakarian. I just pour what I’m given,” the bartender uttered.

Shepard stopped drinking. “Officer? Good thing I didn’t start that brawl then.”

“I probably would have joined you if I’m being honest,” he said and his tone seemed to regress to the lower mood he was engaged in before.

“This scene not your thing?”

A loud whoop resounded from the dance floor. They both looked at the party, now considerably livelier and less awkward than it had been from the start. For all the impure alcohol Atvius had foisted upon the festivities, it worked well enough to smooth out the tensions into an actual air of celebration. The groom and the bride were in the middle of the crowd, wildly flailing their limbs into something even an inept dancer like Shepard didn’t think construed as proper dancing, while guests of all species cheered them on. It was enough to make her smile, and she wondered why Garrus remained stiff-shouldered at such a cheery sight.

“So you said you were friends with both of them?” she ventured when he didn’t answer her previous question.

“Yeah. I met Atvius after my coworker forced me to go with him to the bistro after a shift. He’d just opened and word-of-mouth was already spreading about how good he was. But I wasn’t buying the hype. He showed me in the end though. That grunnien kebab of his is a killer. I became a regular quickly enough.”

“Scary how his meat can pull you in so quickly, huh?” Shepard couldn’t help but joke and she was rewarded with Garrus’s hoarse bark of a laugh.

“You said it. And what about you? How’d you meet the two lovebirds?”

“Atvius I saved from a group of pirates who thought he was shipping some lucrative mining resources rather than a bunch of asari spices. And Livia, I only met briefly through Atvius. They’d only been dating for a short time and I was away from the Citadel so often I didn’t have more chances to get to know her. The next thing I know, I’m getting an e-vite to their wedding. Which was a surprise, considering.”

She trailed off but Garrus was quick on the uptake.

“Liv’s already stubborn but she can become even more hard-headed with the things she wants. And she’s already established enough of a name for herself in her career not to take any repercussions from her family seriously.”

“Hm. My type of woman then.”

“That’s Liv for you.” Something about the flick of his mandibles told her that he was smiling.

“Seems like you know her best,” Shepard ventured again; she didn’t miss that he omitted her the first time. “How’d you two meet?”

“Liv… Well, Liv, I’ve known since we were kids but we didn’t get close until military school. She was my sister, Solana’s friend first and Sol always complains about how quickly I replaced her spot,” he said warmly.

Something in the softness of his voice made Shepard pause. She didn’t think she was well-versed with turian body language and tonal inflection to be certain of what that was about, but she could guess enough.

“Pity for your sister. It’s hard being replaced,” she said lightly.

Garrus was quiet for a moment before saying, “Yeah. Pity for her.”

He took another swig of his drink and Shepard felt bad at what she’d uncovered. She quickly changed the subject. “So… wait, wouldn’t that make you a shit stirrer yourself?”

“What?”

“You said Atvius only befriends shit stirrers. Which would naturally mean that you are one yourself.”

His mood seemed to lift at that. “You could say that. I’ve been known to be a bit of a bad boy to some.”

Shepard nearly sputtered out her drink as she cackled.

“What?” Garrus sounded slightly offended.

“I don’t know. Just your phrasing. You seemed so earnest when you said it. Bad boy. Like a proverbial Boy Scout puffing out his chest.”

“What’s a Boy Scout?”

“Someone who’s definitely not a bad boy,” she teased before descending into cackles again. God, she needed sleep.

Her humor seemed contagious though because Garrus joined her even if it was at his expense. “I don’t know why you’re laughing. But if you ever meet a Pallin at C-Sec, ask him about me. He can tell you all about how much of a bad boy I am.”

“I’d rather not get crossed with your coworkers. So I’ll take your word for it.”

Their conversation became more spirited as they exchanged stories about their colleagues. They shared minimal information about each other to keep it light and smooth. But from what she had gathered, Garrus was the youngest of two children. His father had been an officer as well and Shepard deduced due to her increasing observation of his tones that he had followed out of a sense of duty rather than personal preference. He made mention of his mother but his cheer had dampened a little at the topic so Shepard quickly diverted it to a story of when she had pranked one of the recruits to use Anderson’s personal bathroom to shower in. Garrus quickly followed that up with a tale of accidentally letting a detainee’s hamster loose in the office, much to Pallin’s chagrin.

He didn’t ask anything about her background, for which Shepard was grateful. After Akuze, her name and what minimal information there was to glean from her origins and her military career were broadcasted on news sites and programs. What’s more, he didn’t ask why she was staying in the Citadel long-term when she’d mentioned that she was planning on leasing an apartment in the area.

But she was grateful for once to engage in conversation that held no weight, that had no bearing on heavy matters it seemed that suns would rise and fall for. It had been a long time since Shepard had engaged in a kind of fun that wasn’t born from a sick urge to escape her head.

They were in the middle of debating the merits of sniper rifles versus shotguns when someone cut the music and called the guests’ attention to the middle of the room. Livia stood in the middle; her new husband tucked to her side as she raised a glass.

“Everyone, I want to take this moment to thank you all for coming. I know how long many of you had to travel to get here and I couldn’t be more grateful that you’ve attended despite your busy schedules and lives. Especially knowing that some of you were definitely thinking of ditching last minute. Don’t think I don’t know you all.”

Raucous, good-natured cheers mixed with muted clapping from the more sober party-goers.

“First, I want to thank my parents for coming.” Livia nodded soberly towards the general direction of two turians before she launched into a speech about family, the future, and true love that would have made the least sentimental melt.

Just as Shepard thought she was done, Livia punctuated it with a last point.

“Before I let you all go to get even more wasted, I also want to take this time to make a toast to Garrus Vakarian,” she continued. Beside her, Garrus stiffened. “Now, where is that big lug?”

Livia’s eyes traveled around the room before landing directly on him. Her mandibles widened and then narrowed in an approximation of a smile. “Garrus! There you are! Everyone, raise a glass for our good friend here for introducing us. Without him, Atvius and I would have never met and none of you would have been taking a day off to party and share this happiness with us today. To Garrus.”

“To Garrus!” everyone crowed. Shepard took one look at his thunderstruck expression and winced in commiseration. Either Livia was more cutthroat than she thought, or she was completely oblivious to his feelings.

Atvius announced that more food was coming and once everyone’s attention had tapered off and returned to the festivities, the spirit of their earlier conversation was well and truly gone. Garrus stood without hesitation and muttered, “Going outside to get some air.”

Shepard watched him leave, pushing away how sorry she felt for him. Somehow, she thought it’d be more insulting to him if she felt a modicum of pity over his situation.

“Vilk, you know any relaxing places to go in this area that don’t involve alcohol?”

The elcor took a beat to answer. “Thoughtful consideration. I think your idea of relaxation is much more different than mine.”

“Fair enough. Let’s go with mine.”

“Genuine suggestion. The Armax Arsenal Arena offers combat simulations that soldiers such as yourself would find a good release of tension. It’s located at the end of the Strip.”

Shepard transferred him an overly generous tip. “Have a good night, Vilk.”

“Fond farewell. Go easy on Officer Vakarian, Commander Shepard.”

Shepard followed Garrus’s trail outside the doors leading to a balcony overlooking the neon lights of the commercial district. Garrus’s lone figure had his back to the door as he leaned his arms on the railing and watched the busy crowds of the Strip.

“Jeez, aren’t you freezing out here? I thought your kind hated the cold.” An icy draft blew through just in time to prove Shepard’s point, whipping her short hair into a frenzied mop on her head. She was wearing a layered, floral embroidered suit but even the blazer couldn’t fully dispel its chill.

“We do. But I’m a bit of a masochist if you already couldn’t tell.” His tone was joking but she guessed there was more truth to that statement than his humor could hide.

Shepard was never great at being a source of comfort. Her usual M.O. was to find the problem and beat it into submission. But something about his lonely silhouette amidst the festive lights compelled her to try anyway. “You know, if I was you, I would have said to hell with the wedding and gone barhopping instead.”

Ok, maybe not the best choice of words.

He turned to her and something about his expression suggested that he was a little affronted. “They’re my friends.”

“I know. I’m saying that you’re a much better person than me to be handling this the way you have.”

“A better person? Or just a better coward?” He laughed dryly.

“Maybe both. Maybe neither. Some would say it’s honorable—keeping your emotions to yourself to keep the peace.”

He was silent for a moment. “I've had the opportunity to tell her my feelings all these years. But I didn’t. When I introduced them, I knew from the first moment they talked that I’d lost that opportunity for good.”

She considered fairly. “Yeah, maybe you were a coward for that. But that was then. Do you wish you could go back and tell her now?”

He paused. “No. Knowing how everything eventually pans out, I don’t think I could take what they found with each other away from them. Even on the slight chance that she happened to return my feelings.”

“So maybe you should take some closure now for protecting what they’ve found because of your silence. That, or spiral in selfish regret.”

“Speaking from personal experience?”

“I don’t spiral.” She huffed. “I fall gracefully.”

Garrus’s laughter was a soft thing. “You know, you are definitely not what I expected.”

“What were you expecting?”

Perhaps, it was something to the atmosphere of the balcony, a contained bubble of the bare cold and the quiet surrounded by frenetic activity that made being genuine with each other so easy. Or perhaps it was just them. Already too honest and blunt for their own good, kindred spirits such as theirs understood that they could never pretend to be anyone else but themselves.

“I thought you’d be a terror. The rumors weren’t very kind to you,” Garrus admitted.

“I don’t mind. It helps my work maintaining that kind of reputation.”

“Hm. I get it. But that can’t be all of it, can it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe it’s good for Commander Shepard to be seen like that. But what about you? How do you feel about it?”

Shepard never thought a turian’s eyes could be so bright. It was a little unnerving to be seen beyond a title like he was addressing the “you” to some stranger that lived under her skin. She hadn’t been that stranger for a long time.

When did she get here? Two cycles ago, she was hounding the poor office admins in the Alliance Headquarters about reconsidering her forced health leave for the second time and now she was on the balcony of a dance hall in the Citadel, having a heart-to-heart with a lovesick turian of all people.

She scrounged for words, finding them uncharacteristically and worryingly out of reach. “It’s not my favorite thing. But I’ve handled worse.”

“I don’t doubt you.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Thanks, by the way. You didn’t have to follow me out to comfort me.”

“Who said I followed you out here for that?” she scoffed, regaining their earlier rapport. “I felt it was only polite to say my goodbyes before I left.”

“Oh. You’re leaving already?” Was it her wishful thinking or did he sound almost disappointed?

“Yeah. I figure I’d extricate myself from here for Atvius and Livia’s sakes before I’m inevitably tempted into making a bigger scene.”

She took a beat and maybe because she couldn’t stand to see him looking at her like that that she found her offer had already left her mouth before she could stop it, “Speaking of which, I was planning on stopping by the Arena to blow off some steam before I call it a night. It helps me sleep when I get some exercise beforehand. I’m open to bringing a partner if you’re interested.”

His eyes widened and her face remained casual and open as she waited for his response. “Uh. Yeah. I mean, are you sure? I don’t want to get in your way.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure. Plus, it seems more fun having someone to fight with.” He still looked uncertain so Shepard added, “That is, unless, you can’t keep up. In which case, I understand why you’d be scared to take your chances with me.”

As expected, a competitive and rebellious light brightened his expression. “I know what you’re doing.”

She grinned. “Is it working?”

“Embarrassingly so.”

“All right, then let’s say our goodbyes to the happy couple and blow this popsicle stand.”

“I don’t know what blowing a popsicle stand means but that’s the best thing I’ve heard all night.”

He followed her back inside, faithful on her heels.

*

Garrus was good.

Actually, way better than she would have expected.

Perhaps, it was her upbringing with the Reds and dealing with incompetent and corrupt officers on Earth, but despite her limited dealings with C-Sec, she didn’t naturally have a positive opinion of the expertise of any police force, to begin with.

Oh, she was eating her words now.

He was still a little rough around the edges, and brash in some of his combat choices but he had the kind of raw talent and intelligence Shepard could see being honed into a deadly and finer weapon.

But more than that, it was just plain fun.

It wasn’t until after they had finished several matches and even garnered a small audience upon displacing some mainstay scorers in the charts that Shepard realized how their opposite styles not only complemented each other but made the other better. And some quieter part of herself admitted how much she enjoyed engaging in a battle to stretch her skills, to recognize that she was good at fighting for something more than just survival.

But that was a revelation that was reserved just for her.

“We kicked some major ass in there,” she announced with satisfaction as they stepped out of the arena.

“Yeah, you’re going to have a major fanbase if you keep this up.”

“Me? What about you?”

He waved her off. “I’m just window dressing.”

“I’ve just met you, Vakarian, but I never would have pegged you to be so modest. You held your own in there and saved me from a few scrapes to boot. Take the win.”

“You make it sound like such a command.” He chuckled.

She was in such a good mood she couldn’t help but be playful. “Oh, it absolutely is. Be proud of your win or I’ll, uh…well, I can’t think of anything at the moment but whatever it is, I’ll make sure you regret it if you disobey me.”

He leaned his head towards her, taking advantage of his height as his voice lowered and cast over her with concerning and immediate effect. “That a threat?”

“More like a promise.”

“Hard not to take that seriously when you put it like that.”

“I’m a woman of my word. Among other things.” She didn’t know who this stranger was that had suddenly applied this suggestive tone into her voice but it definitely wasn’t her.

Garrus gave her one of those inscrutable but piercing looks again and absurdly, she felt her face warm this time.

“I’ll go to bed with my lights on then,” he said finally and she wondered why she was holding her breath.

As soon as the moment arrived, it disappeared and they were back to the previous mood of their banter as they walked to the transfer shuttles.

What the fuck, Shepard.

“Well, this is going my way,” Garrus announced. “Where are you staying at? I can walk you if you’re nearby.”

He had tacked on the last part like he wasn’t fully thinking about it when he said it. But once it was out there, she saw the immediate cringing regret in his expression.

“Er, I mean. Not to imply anything about your ability to keep yourself safe. Just thought I’d be…you know, chivalrous. Actually, turian propriety’s a bit different from humans but a lot of C-Sec diversity workshops I’ve attended informed me that humans can get a bit twee and overly particular about gender customs so I thought I’d put it out there. Not to say that you yourself are overly particular about that kind of thing, just that—”

“Garrus, I’d love for you to walk me. My hotel is just a little outside of the Strip.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, cool.” He looked visibly relieved and Shepard suppressed a grin. She never thought someone’s awkward rambling could be so endearing. How he slipped so easily between nervous energy and smooth delivery was frankly impressive.

They walked, exchanging easy repartee about their respective training. Once they approached Shepard’s hotel, Garrus noted, “So how long are you staying here?”

“Just for a week. I’m hoping I can find a more long-term situation before I have to extend my stay. The Alliance is more than happy to pay for my room and board here but I’d prefer to bunk at my own place somewhere quieter.”

They never did delve deeply into Shepard’s situation and she hoped that they wouldn’t end such a good night with that can of worms. Thankfully, Garrus didn’t poke, and once again, she marveled at how his bluntness operated along such quiet understanding.

Instead, he cleared his throat and offered, “You know, I’m not much of a real estate guy but I can connect you with a couple of contacts who could help you find a place quickly.”

“That’d be helpful, Garrus. Thank you. I’ll take you up on that.”

“Yeah. I mean, if you, you know, also needed some help with moving or anything, I can do that, too. Or if you needed someone to show you around. I know these sectors like the back of my arm.”

“Hand.”

“What?”

“Like the back of my hand.”

“What about your hand?”

“Garrus.”

“I’m kidding.” He shifted his heels, a tell-tale sign Shepard was quickly learning was a nervous fidget of his. “So, what do you think?”

She didn’t know why she was suddenly remembering her last video call with Anderson days after a psychological diagnostician deemed her mentally unsound and the Alliance had promptly put her on forced leave. But the memory came back to her in a flash.

“This is ridiculous. Do they really think pulling me out of duty is what’s good for my ‘mental stability’? What’re our chances of getting a second opinion on this thing?”

“Our hands are tied, Shepard. It might be a choice neither of us would have made but it’s the choice that we’ve been given.”

“Are you serious? Do you believe what they're saying about me, Captain?”

“I believe you will do what’s necessary to get back on the job. Even if that means not doing the job.”

Shepard was silent, feeling resentful and hopeless that her last ally had conceded to the higher-up’s whims. “Well, what the hell am I supposed to do here then? Frolic in the park and people watch? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

For the first time, Anderson’s formalities had fallen away as a slight smile upturned his lips. “Shepard, if you have to ask me how to have fun, I don’t think there’s any hope for you. Find some friends. Go out. Get some sleep and attend your wellness check-ups so they can finally clear you. Then, get back to me.”

She looked up at Garrus’s waiting face, realizing that she had been leaving him to stew in silence for longer than what was appropriate.

“Garrus,” she said slowly, gravely, deliberately. “Are you propositioning me?”

She wished she had her camera out to capture the pure universal expression of shock that overtook his entire body. He made a sound that was more of a squawk than anything else.

“What? No! I don’t think of you that way! No offense, but you’re not my type. Plus, you know my situation. Er, emotionally-speaking. I was just asking if you wanted to hang out as friends because we had such a good run tonight and oh—wait, you’re kidding. That’s your kidding face.”

She burst into laughter. “You are so earnest. How do you get anything done as an officer? Also what was with that chicken sound?”

“Ha, ha, laugh it up. I’m retracting my offer.” He made to walk away but she stopped him in between fits of her amusement.

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry. I would love to hang out as friends. I had a lot of fun tonight, too.”

Garrus eyed her, presumably to see if she was up to any more tomfoolery before he matched her mood and took out his omni-tool interface. She didn’t think turians eye rolled but he definitely did. “Contact me at this number. We can start the search tomorrow after my shift if you’re free then.”

“Sounds good, friend.”

“Nah, you’re on probation now,” he said haughtily. “Give me a week and we’ll see about being friends.”

“All right, that’s fair. I’ll see you on our date tomorrow.”

“Shepard.”

“Kidding.”

He rolled his eyes again before he left but she could see that he was pleased.

He really did have the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

[domp1er]

“Uh – no,” nose wrinkling, suddenly self-conscious. Charlie’s stupidly aware of the contrast in their ability, and it’s humbling, but there’s something about @cendrilons that makes his face burn. He looks away, averting his eyes, before sighing and crossing his arms. “I’m working on it, okay? We do - don’t have the budget for it yet. I did what I could.” Sheepish, displacing his arms to stick bruised knuckles inside his jacket pocket; before doing so, Charlie reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. “You did, uh ... pretty good. Do you get paid for this?” As in, she carried. A balletic thing, a jagged shriek of pink like a shooting star. Going to burn his eyelids when he closes his eyes. He can already hear Pim's tinny little soprano in his ears, come on, Charlie. Be more confident. Your life is on the line. More like his dignity.