#genderfluid shepard

[bluerose5]

Stargazing with shavik??? Pretty please??

Love them! Just a couple of soldiers in a post-war galaxy. 🥺

~~~

There came a time in life when the war ended.

The soldiers came home, laid down their weapons, and took a breath.

For once, the impossible seemed possible. Species all across the galaxy banded together. All of Commander Shepard’s hard work finally paid off, and that unity survived into the aftermath of the Reaper War. Recovery efforts were extensive; but for the first time in a long while, hope persevered.

There would come a time when Shepard’s help would be needed again. Of that, they were certain.

And when the call came, they would answer.

For now, however, they were going to enjoy the peace while it lasted.

Calloused fingers reached out at their side, brushing lightly along the tips of tall grass. Each blade danced in the cool, evening breeze, their color slightly washed out in the darkness of night.

Echoes of the past whispered through each individual blade of grass, the effects of the Cipher growing stronger with each passing day. Slowing to a halt, Alyx let their eyes slip closed, and they listened.

Flashes of memories played out like scenes out of a movie. Children chased flying insects native to the area. Young lovers sprinted through the fields with breathless grins. Fires roared while the geth trampled past the destruction left in their wake. Ghosts of an empire cried out as their home was annihilated.

Alyx hadn’t even realized they were holding their breath, not until they felt fingers brush against their own.

They inhaled sharply, and fresh air brought in a rush of oxygen along with it, causing their head to spin.

The memories they could sense around them were replaced with familiar ones, most of them equally as chilling, but familiar nonetheless.

Alyx opened their eyes to stare at Javik.

It was still so strange, seeing him outside of his armor, experimenting with different styles from various species. Civilian attire suited him, though, especially the looser, lighter fabrics that he seemed to prefer.

In spite of themself, Alyx smiled.

Javik spared them a glance, lips parted.

“What?” he asked.

They immediately shook their head.

“It’s nothing.” He leveled them with a curious stare, so Alyx shrugged. “I was just thinking that this is where we first met.”

"That, it is," he replied, then snorted after a second. "Don't tell me you're feeling sentimental, Commander."

"And if I was?" they countered, never one to back down around him. "Would that be so bad?"

He considered that, fingers twitching.

"No, perhaps not." 

For the first time since Alyx knew him, everything about him was so gentle. His voice, his eyes, his touch.

When he reached out to take Alyx's face in his hands, Alyx surrendered to all of the emotions, thoughts, and memories exchanged between them. He traced every single detail, fascinated, and Alyx let him.

Eventually, he asked, "Tell me. What do people like us do when there is no war to be fought?"

A fair enough question. He had been born into battle. It was all he knew when he went to sleep, and it was the first thing he woke up to in a far-distant future.

Alyx knew a time "before" war, but their time on Earth sometimes felt like a battlefield in and of itself.

They placed their hands over his, stopping them in their path, and squeezed.

For that moment, he sounded so lost, and that feeling echoed through Alyx, both of them feeding into the feeling.

That didn't mean they couldn't at least try and make sense of the uncertainty.

"When the war is over, soldiers must find a new purpose," Alyx explained in a whisper. "Easier said than done, I know, but we have to keep going. We build a new life."

They glanced back over their shoulder, the lights from the colony twinkling like stars themselves.

"That's what Eden Prime has always been, right? A beginning and an end. A place where our old lives ended and our new ones began." They took a deep breath to steady the tremor in their voice. "It was where the Reapers' war on this cycle first started, so… I don't know." They gave a half-shrug. "I felt it was fitting to end the post-war victory tour here, to remember those lost."

Even then, off in the distance, they could hear celebrations in full swing. While there was still much to rebuild, scars that needed to heal, the colonists were more than happy to have a reprieve away from all the devastation that had been inflicted upon them, time and time again. They were given a chance to focus on all of the good that life had to offer, so they seized the opportunity.

They definitely earned the break, and then some.

"Figured this was our chance to put the past to rest," Alyx said. Hesitantly, they wrapped their arms around him, but Javik accepted the embrace without complaint. "Together."

Golden eyes stared down at them. For a split second, he glanced towards the colony, humming low in contemplation.

"Together," he said with a hint of finality. "But let's take a walk. You mentioned on the ride here that it's been a while since you've seen the stars from planetside."

"It has been," they stated, wrinkling their nose ever so slightly, "and Earth wasn't exactly known for its views when I grew up there. Too much pollution at the time."

Not to take into account its condition when Alyx was last there, but neither of them mentioned that.

Javik tugged them along instead.

"Then, let's go." He coaxed them away from all of the noise. "We're not going to see much this close to the settlement."

"Yeah," Alyx agreed, "although, if we want the full impact, then we have a long trip ahead of us."

"That's never stopped us before."

"You're right."

And it wasn’t going to stop them now.

They tangled their fingers together, and they set off into the night.

They lost track of time after a while, but that mattered little to them. They continued walking, hand in hand, no matter how many times they faltered.

Cybernetic scars split open Alyx's skin in little, web-like cracks, but they hardly felt as self-conscious about them now as they did when they first woke up after Project Lazarus. The violet lighting glowed, penetrating through the haze of darkness.

Each step forward revealed how Alyx favored one side while walking, a noticeable limp to their right leg that never really went away after the war.

Their right arm was completely prosthetic. Metallic at the moment, but it worked well enough for them.

There were scars from burns that never quite healed right, and pain always lingered, even if nothing more than a dull background noise.

Alyx coped with it as best as they could, took it all in stride, or so they let on.

It was their reminder of all that they had survived, the sacrifices that they made to get to where they were.

It was a reminder that they were still alive, that they got an actual chance to live.

Neither one of them said much throughout their journey, but the unspoken exchanges through touch said enough.

Once they reached the top of a hill that overlooked the main settlement, they came to a stop.

"Shall we have a seat?" Alyx asked, waving towards a spot on the ground.

Javik grumbled, but Alyx knew him long enough to know when he was about to start trolling.

"You mean you didn't bring anything for me to sit on? Unacceptable. I'll have you know that I do not need to settle for these types of condi—"

"Oh, shut up."

With a shove of their biotics, they knocked him onto his ass.

Before he could respond, they were already snuggling up to him, their back to his chest. As they squirmed their way in between his legs, they took his arms and wrapped them around themself, a smug smile upon their lips.

Javik huffed, disgruntled yet fond.

"I think you just like to push me around."

"I like to put you in your place," Alyx corrected, their expression coy. "'Pushing you around,' as you call it, is a part of that at times, but I certainly don't hear you complaining."

A lone grunt of acknowledgement, followed by a pointed silence, was answer enough.

Alyx snickered, nudging him lightly.

"Now, hush. Enjoy the view with me."

Not a difficult order to follow. Away from all the light and noise, the night sky lit up in delight. Stars came out of hiding and brightened for their audience, glittering like precious gems. 

Alyx mapped out that portion of the sky in their mind, seeking out familiar constellations with the eagerness of a child.

Even the soil held onto fragmented remains of those who came before, explorers that charted their course through the vast sea of space.

Perhaps that could be their new purpose. To explore, instead of fighting. Even the Milky Way still had a lot of untouched areas, ready and waiting to be seen.

All things considered, staring up at those stars reminded Alyx how small their corner of the universe truly was.

It might make their lives seem insignificant to some in the grander scheme of things, but Alyx thought that it emphasized the importance of their home all the more, to have so many willing to fight so hard to preserve the integrity of a speck of dust that was lost amongst the sandstorm.

Parting their lips, they released a shaky breath.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" they whispered.

"Yes, you are."

A solid beat passed before they fully processed that, startling even themself by laughing aloud.

"I meant the stars."

"Oh." He sounded extremely unimpressed compared to before. "Then, yeah, they're alright."

Alyx couldn't help but to grin, even as they rolled their eyes.

To think, they had traveled all over the galaxy, met so many people, but they found their solace in the arms of a Prothean. An alien outside of his time.

And while they might not ever be the types for grand gestures or flowery words, they had something that simply worked for them, and that was all that mattered.

Understanding, familiarity, belonging.

Alyx wouldn't trade that for anything.

Turning in his arms, they captured his lips into a kiss. They knew that it was still strange to him, to show affection in such a way, but he never hesitated to kiss them back.

Roaming hands quickly sought out bared skin, so many words communicated at once yet left unsaid.

Right now, they might feel like a couple of worn-out souls, left floating adrift on their own, but Alyx had faith in them. They'd find what awaited them beyond the uncertainty.

Even those lost at sea could one day happen upon a shore.

When the time was right, they wouldn't hesitate.

They would take that first step towards solid ground, towards stability.

And they would do so together.

[hipstersoulgushers]

Girls from Colorado

[mogai-headcanons]

Commander Shepard from Mass Effect is a genderfluid bi lesbian whose pronoun usage is fluid!

Jeff 'Joker' Moreau is a panromantic asexual genderqueer xenogender man who uses he/him and they/them pronouns!

The Illusive Man is a voidpunk aromantic asexual weirdcoric OSgender hideandseeker being who uses no pronouns!

dni link

[shepards-folly]

i love my friends sending me keyboard spams in reaction to art i make for them like fuck yeah I obliterated them I am so talented at friends.

[urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites]

Masterlist:

<NSFW content will be bolded, only slight nsfw will be in italics and bolded>

The Outsiders:

(Some of these include Shepards but I forgot the label)

The Gang x goth s/o

The Gang x Mean Girl s/o

The Gang Hugging Headcanons!

Johnny Cade Dating Headcanons!

The Gang x s/o who flinches in a fight

The Gang x smalltime Movie Star! M! Greaser PT 1

Johnny x Hot!F! Greaser + Gang Reactions!

Johnny x Two Bit x Dally (PLATIONIC) Headcanons!

The Gang walking in on you changing!

Johnny can sing x Gang Reaction

The Gang x m! Mute Greaser friendship Headcanons

The Gang x Scary! M! Greaser

The Gang x Rich Soc! GN! Reader

The Gang x modern AU!

The Gang x F! Greaser Crush Headcanons

Steve Randle Headcanons!

Autistic F! Reader x The Gang

Gang Cuddling Headcanons!

Teasing! Hot! M! Greaser x The Gang

Scary! Hot! Teasing M! Greaser x The Gang

Young Ponyboy x Two Bit Fluff!

Sodapop, Two Bit, and Steve School Headcanons

Pretty, haunted, scared looking F! Greaser x Gang

Innocent M! Greaser making unintentional dirty jokes x The Gang

The Gang x F! Scene reader

The Gang x F! Hyperfem reader

The Gang x Hogwarts Houses!

The Gang x Protective! M! Greaser going crazy in a rumble when they get hurt

The Gang x Dark! F! Seductive! Reader

The Gang x Androgynous!GN! S/o

The Gang x GN/F! Waitress s/o

Movie Star M! Greaser gets killed in a movie x Gang Reacts!

Nice! F! Greaser with RBF x The Gang

NSFW M! Reader Headcanons x The Gang

NSFW F! Reader Headcanons x The Gang

M! Greaser gives princess treatment to the Gang Headcanons!

The Gang x baker/cook! s/o!

The Gang x Reader who reads out loud very goofily

The Gang x Great storyteller Reader

The Gang x s/o! In a band!

Short but deadly! M! Greaser x The Gang

Tall! Whimpy! Polite! M! Soc x The Gang

Yandere!F! S/o x The Gang

Chaotic!M! Greaser x The Gang

Insecure about braces! M! Greaser x The Gang

The Gang x Masc!Butch!Genderqueer! Tough buzzcut F! Greaser

Gang Reacts to Pony with M!Conservative!Down Bad! Soc

The Gang x F! Tough lookin! But Soft! Crochet! Reader

The outsiders characters as things me and my friends have said

The Outsiders Incorrect quotes

Encanto x The Outsiders

ROASTING YOU BASED ON YOUR OUTSIDERS CRUSH FT. THE GANG + CHERRY

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre:

Nubbins Sawyer with sick s/o

Nubbins Sawyer x Bimbo/Himbo s/o

Nubbins Sawyer x Insecure!F! Reader

The Sawyers/Slaughters walking in on you changing

Nubbins Sawyer General Headcanons!

Johnny Slaughter General Headcanons!

Sissy Slaughter General Headcanons

Comfort! S/o with shitty abandoned friends

Nubbins/Chop Top Sawyer w/ genderfluid partner!

Comfort! On a vacation w/ shitty parents ft. Chop Top!

Chop top x pregnancy hcs

Chop top x bad singer s/o

Scream 1

Comfort! S/o with shitty abandoned friends

Slashers in General

Slashers with s/o on period!! Ft. Micheal Myers + Stu/Billy and the Sawyers

DCU

What the Batfam eats for Breakfast

[greypetrel]

Friday Effect.

Ok, I've been tagged again by two people (@theluckywizard and @daggerbeanart, whom I tag right back with affection and thanks! :3), so here we go, another sketchdump (or sketchdumB as I mistyped).

Today it's Mass Effect, right now I'm in ME2, blame @ndostairlyrium for finally dragging me down. (thank you Ali!!)

Introducing to you Max Shepard.

Mechanical engineer, convinced that if she can repair it she can drive it (she can't), so genderfluid she broke the game (I... Uh... Entered another romance without knowing it. With a character that technically isn't romanceable by women. *cries over Morrigan in DAO*). Romanced this time voluntarily Liara.

In the meanwhile, she's building herself a 1985 Triumph Bonneville in her room from scratch with Cerberus' money and selling it as a very important research to help the mission (it will help her mood, so you see it's vital for the mission).

Her grandma was from Livorno and she'll curse like a sailor and would say spuma should be more available throughout the galaxy and listen to Europe/80s rock if she could. More doodles below:

Grunt is her son, Wrex has pictures of them in his wallet and forces everyone to look at them and listen to him speak and I'll learn to draw Krogans eventually.

[wormsmybeloved]

Here's some dnd character Ideas in case you need them:

1, Grung Oath of Vengeance Paladin, born in the lower caste you were able to escape, but now adventure to one day become strong enough to free your friends.

2, A genderfluid Warlock (the subclass and race of which doesn't matter) who uses the Mask of Many Faces Eldritch Invocation so their body always matches their gender.

3, An Echo Knight Fighter (the race of which doesn't matter) who was never able to make friends, so they simply learned to manifest an Echo to be their friend. (also works with Shepard Druid)

4, A Dwarf (the class does not matter) who grew up in a massive underground city, but one day got lost and arrived on the surface, and now searches for how to get back home.

5, A Chronurgy Wizard (race doesn't matter) who saw something beyond what they should know, so wiped their mind, and all they have now to go on is a half completed note.

6, An Oath of Devotion Paladin who really really loves his wife, and tries to contact her whenever he can, he should be human so his lifespan is shorter, and thus has less time to spend with his wife in the long run. Name him Anthony cuz that's a neat name

[eastvillages]

hey all the outsiders fan art on here is of them all being white and it didn’t used to be so let me share my hcs for the gang…

curtis brothers are indigenous american (cherokee)

johnny is mexican and italian

steve is black

two-bit is indian

dally is the only white man

the shepards are mixed indian and black

ponyboy is deaf/hoh, transmasc, and pansexual… he also has adhd and he keeps the bleached hair :3 + i ship him with curly… he ends up going to uc berkeley on a track scholarship and studies journalism and literature

in almost everything i’ve written johnny and dally survive.. so this is that

johnny is obviously paralyzed still and is a wheelchair user and i think he also has adhd. he likes folk punk music and likes organic food and loves dogs + ship him with dally. bi and a he/they

dally has bpd and is super tall… he’s got the crumbling brown leather jacket that reeks of beer and cigarette smoke and loves elvis… dally is dally + ship him with johnny or soda depending on the universe of the fic

soda has super pretty amber eyes and long curly hair… he’s also chubby and i believe in the vietnam thing so he was drafted to vietnam and made two really close friends who were both killed in an explosion there, that explosion took off his left arm so he has one arm and uses a prosthetic. he is so lana del rey vintage americana coquette and loves gingham and flannels ofc… has pretty severe PTSD that he works though + ship him with dally. ALSO IS GENDERFLUID AND BI

steve was also drafted to vietnam along with soda and became a horrible patriot in support of the war that soda began to drift from. they eventually reconcile but they’re completely different people and don’t talk for almost 3 months after getting home

darry has really long hair and he looks a lot like their father. he is a workaholic and can genuinely be rlly funny… uh i don’t have many ideas about twobit or anybody else but yeah all of my writing is based in these hcs

[aceghosts]

OC Interviews

Hey Guys! I was tagged recently by @carlosoliveiraa, but was also tagged a while ago by @henbased, @nightbloodbix, and @katsigian. (I think I got everyone who tagged me last time.

Tagging (Opt out/in here): @amalkavian, @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @clicheantagonist, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @theelderhazelnut, @captmactavish, @alexxmason, @captastra, @cassietrn, @strangefable, @direwombat, @fourlittleseedlings and anyone else who wants to do this!

Blue Murphy

Name: Jay Casey Murphy Nickname: Family and Close Friends call them Blue Jay while most others call them Blue. They're also called Deputy, Dep, Rookie, and Rook in Hope County. Eden's Gate occasionally refers to them as wrath. Gender: Genderfluid (They/Them) Star Sign: Aries Personality Type: Chaotic Good Height: 5’6 ft Orientation: Bisexual Nationality/Ethnicity: American (Blue is originally from West Virginia, but spent most of their adulthood in Colorado before moving to Hope County, Montana.) Favorite Fruit: Mangoes. Blue has a bit of a sweet tooth. Favorite Season: Winter. They think mountains always look great covered in snow and love to go hiking in snowy parts. Blue is also a snowboarder, and winter is the perfect time for that. Favorite Scent: Pine Tree Needles Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: Hot Chocolate with lots of marshmallows and whipped cream. Average Hours of Sleep: Before Hope County, roughly 6-8 hours. After the reaping kicks off, Blue’s average hours of sleep varies. Dogs or Cats: Both. They love Boomer and Peaches equally, spoiling both animals. Dream Trip: Kicking Horse. They've heard wild things about the slopes, and Blue would love to try them out someday. Number of Blankets: One. Before Hope County, Blue had a nice quilt that they slept with. Before the Reaping, Blue sent that quilt along with most of their things back to Colorado. Random Fact: I might have said this before, but Blue's favorite time of day is dawn. Something about watching the sun rise makes them feel happy to be alive.

Rooney Shepard

Name: Rooney Shepard Nickname: Most refer to Rooney by their last name. It is very rare for anyone to refer to Rooney by their first name. Those that are allowed to call them by their first name are people that they deeply trust and care for. In their ME universe, Thane uses Siha as a term of affection. Gender: Agender (They/Them) Star Sign: Aries Personality Type: Neutral Good Height: 5’10 ft. Orientation: Rooney would probably say they fall somewhere on the asexual spectrum, leaning towards demisexuality. Nationality/Ethnicity: Canadian/American in their cyberpunk verse. They have Irish heritage in both universes. Favorite Fruit: Apples Favorite Season: Fall Favorite Scent: Cinnamon or Leather Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: Tea. They normally drink black tea, but their real favorite is cinnamon tea or something similar. Average Hours of Sleep: In an ideal world, Rooney would simply not need sleep. However, their hours of sleep vary depend on their workload/how deep they're in on a case. Dogs or Cats: Rooney is fine with cats and dogs, but they prefer hamsters, especially their Hamster, Shepard Jr. Dream Trip: Anywhere and Everywhere. In both verses, Rooney grew up in a sheltered town, reading about the world/galaxy and dreaming about it. (In their ME universe, it's part of the reason Rooney joined the Alliance.) Although, a part of Rooney would love to explore a completely unknown, never inhabited before planet. Number of Blankets: They have a basic comforter, but their favorite is a cooling weighted blanket. (Rooney gets hot at night.) Random Fact: Rooney is a puzzle fiend. They always have some sort of word search, crossword, Sudoku, etc. open on their device.

Hunter Delaney

Name: Hunter Shea Delaney Nickname: Dearheart by Wesker. Occasionally, people refer to Hunter by their last name. Gender: ¯(ツ)/¯ (They/Them) Star Sign: Scorpio Personality Type: Chaotic Neutral Height: 6 ft Orientation: Bisexual with a preference for mean blonds Nationality/Ethnicity: American (They're originally from Brooklyn, New York.) Favorite Fruit: Cherries Favorite Season: Summer. Back when they weren't infected, Hunter liked going out to paint landscapes during the summer. Favorite Scent: Wesker’s cologne. It makes Hunter feel safe. Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: Coffee, preferably black. They're not really into super fancy drinks. (Actually, if you handed Hunter a very fancy coffee, their response would most likely be 'What the fuck is this?') Average Hours of Sleep: Depends on if it’s a good or a bad night, but anywhere from 3-5 hours. Dogs or Cats: Dogs. They’re literally so black dog coded. Dream Trip: The Louvre in Paris, France, and The Uffizi Gallery in Florence, Italy. (In truth, Hunter would love to go see any art gallery/museum, but these two have always interested them. Number of Blankets: Hunter likes a thick comforter, but usually sleeps with one to two blankets. (Wesker’s jacket also gets stolen as a blanket from time to time.) Random Fact: Don't think I've conveyed in this any of the stuff that I've written for Hunter, but they talk with their hands.

[bluerose5]

38 for the soft prompts, whoever you feel like!

38. "Do you remember our first kiss?"

Think I'm going to fill this one for Alyx & Miranda actually. Although, this turned out more spicy than soft. 👀

~~~

Starboard Observation was quiet when Miranda entered.

She had been pacing around outside for who-knows-how-long before she finally gathered enough courage to step foot into the room.

It wasn't like her to be nervous around anyone; but then again, Alyx Shepard wasn't just anyone to her.

She clenched her fists at her side, tried to calm her breathing, futile as it may be.

It certainly didn't help that Alyx stood there so casually, her head pressed against the window, staring out into the vastness of space. A loose, off-white shirt remained mostly unbuttoned, creating a low, swooping neckline that exposed most of the bare chest that laid beneath. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, barely able to conceal the slight strain where strong arms stretched out thin fabric.

An old pair of jeans clung to the shape of her legs, tucked neatly into a pair of worn-out combat boots.

Grayish-blue eyes traced her ink from afar, familiar with every curve and line that stood out against golden brown skin. Almost every section of her body had a tattoo of some sort, the most visible now being the ones upon her chest and arms.

Miranda had went through the time and effort of returning each one to their former glory after bringing her back, and she would gladly do so again.

The purple glow of their cybernetic scarring flared for a brief second, Alyx acutely aware of the eyes trained on her.

"Something on your mind, Miranda?" she asked, turning to glance over her shoulder at her.

Ocular implants gave off the same light that her scars did, a definite change compared to the warm brown Miranda was used to.

Bracing herself, Miranda took a deep breath.

"I was thinking about you, actually."

Hesitantly, she strolled forward, her heels tapping upon the floor with every step. The closer she got, the more she could make out the finer details of Alyx's other scars, one upon her eyebrow, another at her lip. Several others scattered along her body from more recent fights.

Miranda yearned to reach out, to feel the patches of rough skin among the smooth.

"Well," Miranda sighed, shaking her head at herself, "I guess it would be more accurate to say that I was thinking about us."

"Yeah?" Alyx snorted at that, brow raised. "Is that so?"

Miranda wanted nothing more than to have her frown melt away into a smile, like it used to in her presence.

She wanted to be able to appreciate Alyx in all of her glory.

She wanted to be able to worship her from head to toe like she deserved, taking note of every mole and scar, every tattoo and piercing that she encountered.

It would be all too easy to give in. Miranda could reach out, brush dark curls back behind her ears, decorated in an array of silver chains and small hoops.

She could imagine the taste of Alyx's lips on hers. She wanted to feel that small metal ball roll against her tongue when she explored Alyx's mouth.

To feel the curve of her breasts fill Miranda's hands with ease. To toy with the bars pierced through stiff, sensitive peaks.

She wanted to seek out cool metal between parted legs, using only her tongue.

Even if they hadn't been together in years, Miranda knew that some things stayed the same, and it was that familiarity —that stability— that ultimately drew her in.

"Mm-hmm..." Closing the distance between them, she trailed off in a hum. "I don't know." She shrugged. "I guess it never really hit me before now, with you right in front of me—" Alyx swallowed thickly as Miranda trailed a lone finger down the center of her chest. "I never realized how much I missed you over the years, Aly."

The old nickname sent a shiver down Alyx's spine.

"Miri," she whispered. She grabbed her hand before it could venture lower, needing a second to think. "You drew that line in the sand, not me."

"Damn it, I know," she said, more frustrated with herself than anything. "But you've done so much for me even when you didn't have to —back then and even now— yet you never expect anything in return like other people do."

"Surprise, surprise," Alyx said, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. "That's what it feels like when someone actually cares about you."

"I know." Choked up, Miranda searched for the right words. "Alyx, look. I was young, I was foolish, and I made plenty of mistakes. But none of them so big as the one where I hurt one of the people that I care about the most."

Reaching out, she cupped Alyx's cheeks, angling her face so that they could lock eyes once again.

Miranda was instantly pinned in place by her gaze, her pale cheeks warming with the beginning of a blush.

"Nothing I can say will excuse what I did," Miranda admitted. "I screwed up, Aly. I can admit that, and I am so, so sorry. Perhaps it seems to you like I know where my loyalties lie, yet you make me doubt... everything."

She didn't try to hide her words. She didn't think of any potential consequences that might arise from them, knowing that The Illusive Man could be listening in, for all she knew.

Truth be told, in that moment, she couldn't find it in herself to care.

Silence settled between them, both of them processing what was said.

Then, a thought occurred to Miranda, and she chuckled.

"What?" Alyx asked, curious.

Miranda grinned when she noticed the slightest twitch at the corner of her lips.

"I was just thinking..." She stretched her arms up to wrap them around Alyx's shoulders, and Shep allowed it, much to Miranda's delight. "Do you remember our first kiss?"

Alyx settled her hands on Miranda's waist.

Rather than pushing her away, as Miranda expected, Alyx yanked her close and turned them in place.

In the blink of an eye, Miranda was pressed between Alyx's body and the window, the void of space looming over her shoulder.

But all of her attention was reserved for her beloved Commander.

Alyx stared down at her for a second, then smirked.

She leaned her forehead against Miranda's and asked, "How could I forget?"

Miranda sank her teeth into her bottom lip to hide how wide her smile had grown, a little bashful about how easily Alyx was able to influence her, even now.

"You were so cute," Miranda praised, combing her fingers through dark, wavy hair. "We were, what? Seventeen, right? Stopped at that one colony world to resupply before our next mission together, and you just absolutely had to go check out that festival of theirs. They were celebrating one of their local holidays, if I remember right."

"Cut younger me some slack," Alyx teased. Their noses brushed, playful. "I've never really seen much of the colonies before, besides what's on the extranet."

"Fair point." When Miranda tugged at the hair at the nape of her neck, Alyx stroked her hands up and down along her sides. Her thumbs brushed along the underside of her breasts. "I—You acted so afraid. Like you would break something, if you weren't careful. All I can think about is how you stared at all the stalls, yet never stopped or asked to play."

Alyx scoffed. "Wasn't used to having the money to do that sorta thing, but I remember a certain someone using the company's account to pay our way through everything."

"Credits well spent, if it meant getting to see you smile. You looked beautiful in all of the lights. I thought that I was the luckiest girl there, to have someone so amazing choose to spend their free time with me."

"Miri," Alyx breathed, her eyes flickering to her lips for a brief second.

Instinctively, Miranda wet her lips in anticipation.

"We fed each other candy back behind one of the booths, and it was so corny," Miranda continued with a laugh. "I thought that I was actually being smooth. Like in the vids. You asked how one of them tasted, and I said something about how you could always have a taste, if you wanted."

Miranda even lowered her voice into a sultry purr for added effect, fluttering her eyelashes up at Alyx, who choked on a laugh.

"Rest assured, I was into it," Alyx snickered. "Caught off guard, but into it."

"Good to know." Embracing the heat of their bodies, Miranda tugged her down to brush her lips over Alyx's, merely a hair’s width apart. "But let me be more straightforward with you now, if you'd let me. I want you to pick me up into your arms, let me wrap my legs around your waist, and I want you to kiss me, Alyx Shepard."

"Fuck," Alyx chuckled, her breathing shaky. "That all?"

"Oh, that's just the beginning, but we'll get to the rest later."

"Yes, ma'am."

And she didn't hesitate to pick her up into her arms, letting Miranda's legs wrap around her waist until she felt heels dig into her lower back.

Their lips crashed together, neither of them really knowing who leaned in first in their desperation to close the distance between them.

Not that it mattered because, for the first time in a while, everything felt right in the universe.

How was it that, when Miranda was the one that brought her back, Alyx was the one that made her feel alive, now more than ever?

Hopefully, it was an answer they could search for together.

[aristocratic-otter]

Hey y'all! It's been a good week for me. I got to go to a British High Tea for the first time ever and had a blast. No cake trolleys though (sorry, Simon!).

I've loved reading your excerpts over the last few weeks, and I've started listening to the podfic fest entries on my drives to and from work (Shout out to @caethes for podding my fic Threads of Fate!). It's so nice to have more audiobooks from Carry On without Rainbow Rowell having to write a new book!

Thank you and tag backsies to @wellbelesbian, @messofthejess, @aroace-genderfluid-sheep, @artsyunderstudy, @larkral, @whatevertheweather, @best--dress, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @nightimedreamersghost, @theearlgreymage and @hushed-chorus

From my fic for the Carry On-Reverse Bang:

“B-Baz,” I stuttered, trying to scramble to my feet. Trying, and failing. The moment I tried to get up, a wave of dizziness hit me, coinciding with a stab of pain in my head. I sagged back to the ground and lifted my hand to my hair. My hair felt wet and my scalp pulsed with pain when I brushed my fingers over it. When I pulled my hand free, it was dark and wet looking.

From my COTTA 2023, Snow Fox:

“I missed you,” he sighs, when we have to break apart for air. 

“I always miss you,” I grumble, resting my forehead against his shoulder. He laughs silently; I can feel his chest bouncing against mine. 

“You always have to make everything a contest,” he says, but his voice is fond. 

“I won your heart, didn’t I?” I smirk at him and he punches me gently in the shoulder. 

“Arse,” he laughs.

From my Age of Sail AU, Stars, Flowers, and Children:

I know we’re far too young to take care of ourselves. If I were a few years older, I’d probably strike off on my own, because living with Davy is nearly unbearable. I’d try to convince Simon to come with me, but I think I’d go, even if he refused. 

But I’m not a few years older. I’m twelve, and I’m afraid. I don’t know if Simon or I could survive without an adult to guide us, no matter how vindictive he is. 

As it turns out though, we aren’t given a choice.

And a slightly more than 6 sentence snip from my TikTok dancer AU (needs a name!):

Penelope narrows her eyes at him. “Snow is an odd name,” she points out, and I realize with a jolt that I never even tried to take on a human name. Shepard knows me by my birth name, but I know enough after a year of living around them that humans don’t go by a single name. Shit!

Shepard’s eyes look equally panicked for a moment, but he swiftly smooths over his expression. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he says to Penelope. “Snow is his surname. But that’s how he introduced himself to me last year, so that’s what I’ve gotten used to calling him.”

“And your full name is?” she asks me, not Shepard. My brain scrambles frantically for a human name I can live with. For some reason, my mind stops on a memory of a particular judge on one of the dancing competitions I’ve been watching. 

“My first name is Simon!” I blurt, a little too forcefully. 

Nothing from Saving Simon Snow this week, it's giving me hell at the moment.

Tagging:

@angelsfalling16, @annabellelux, @bazzybelle, @bookish-bogwitch, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @dragoneggos, @frjsti, @gekkoinapeartree, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @ileadacharmedlife, @j-nipper-95, @jasonfunderberkerthefrogexists, @krisrix, @letraspal, @moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @onepintobean, @prettylightsbigcity, @rimeswithpurple, @raenestee, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @vampire-named-gampire, @whogaveyoupermission, @yellobb, @yeonjunenby

[wellbelesbian]

Six Sentence Sunday

thanks for tagging me @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @shrekgogurt and @artsyunderstudy!

i have two snippets to share! but this post is kinda long, so i'll put them under a cut.

so, the first is from the last chapter of Shoulder To Shoulder, which i'll be posting on wednesday:

“Fuck you Thatcher, or screw you Thatcher?” Agatha asks, propping up the sign she’s working on for us all to see.

“Oh, they’re both so good.” Shepard says wistfully, pinning the fabric for his new dress to a mannequin. I’m impressed by his ability to talk with such emotion with half a dozen pins held between his teeth. We’re on the top floor of the bookshop, which doubles as Niamh’s home, paint and glitter strewn all about the place.

the song for this scene:

and if you didn't see, yesterday i posted the bonus kerixie fic set in the same AU! here's the link to that.

then i also have a snippet from what i'll be working on after this fic is done, my nanowrimo project from last year that i didn't finish. in case you weren't here or missed me talking about it last year, it's a retelling of the aftermath of the Trojan War, following Astyanax, the son of Hector and Andromache, who died as a baby in some myths but survived in others. he bounces around Greece looking for his mother, who was taken after the war, and along the way runs into Briseis and Hermione, who both met Andromache and tell him what they experienced during that time. so there are a three stories in one!

here's a bit of Hermione's POV. i adore writing her, she's a bit like the way i write Agatha, judgemental and yet dissatisfied with the expectations put on her. it's very fun to write bitchy characters who eventually meet someone they can let their guard down around, and who then turn out to be quite nice.

I stood at the balcony, looking out over the courtyard, but there was still no sign of my husband. Looking straight across I could see the men’s half of the palace, but every window was dark. My mother’s rope was coiled in the corner, mocking me. Her words echoed in my mind and I couldn’t help but laugh dismissively. What did it matter if it was sturdy, when Neoptolemus was so small? He would be light as a feather.

and here's a song from around this part of my corresponding Hermione playlist:

if you want to see more snippets from this fic, i've already posted plenty on my main blog @nausikaaa last year under the tag 'my writing' and will keep posting more this year.

i tag @j-nipper-95 @ileadacharmedlife @prettygoododds @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @imagineacoolusername @confused-bi-queer @ic3-que3n @forabeatofadrum @bazzybelle @theearlgreymage @aristocratic-otter @larkral @hushed-chorus @martsonmars @ivelovedhimthroughworse @blackberrysummerblog @fatalfangirl @ebbpettier @cutestkilla @alleycat0306 @alexalexinii @shemakesmeforget and @bookish-bogwitch

[forabeatofadrum]

El WooWoo! And a happy WIP Tuesday to you too, @wellbelesbian! And thanks @aroace-genderfluid-sheep for the Wednesday tag.

This is the situation in my writing life:

My brain: Girl, you do NOT need a new WIP. You have plenty. One of them has a deadline. MCD feels neglected. Me @ my brain: Yes, but.... what if.... Tears of the Kingdom inspired Snowbaz reunion fic?

Anyway, here's some of that. Baz's POV, because I can. It got a bit long, but you know what, here we go:

I remember the first time I saw a Sky Island. We'd just arrived at Heathrow. We were all a mess. One moment, Simon and I were on the beach, the next Bunce comes yelling about troubles at Watford, and then we're back home in England and all of us are being ushered in a car by Mitali Bunce. (Well, almost all of us. Wellbelove refused to come along and when Professor Bunce found out Shepard is a Normal, he wasn't allowed to join.) Professor Bunce drove us to Watford and I could see something was wrong. Some buildings were destroyed. Huge boulders had fallen down on them. I was so shocked and confused by the sight on the surface that I didn't even think about the sky. The moment we got out of the car, Simon put his hand on my shoulder and told me to look up. Sky Islands. They were everywhere. Professor Bunce started talking about how they just appeared overnight and that no one knew where they came from and it seemed like Normals cannot see them. They first appeared above Watford, but they've been popping up everywhere and chunks have fallen down, creating chaos and confusion on the surface The World of Mages needed everyone who was willing to help and Bunce and I didn't have to think long about it. Simon, on the other hand, was more doubtful. "It's alright. Take your time," I said. "Right," Simon said back, still looking at the sky. Bunce and I were ordered to go to whatever was left of the White Chapel. Simon decided to stay behind for, since he wasn't officially part of this brand new investigation team. I kissed his cheek. I said goodbye. I told him that he should go home and rest and that I'd see him later. I didn't know that that was the last time I'd see him.

Yeah, so, uh, just like in AWTWB, Simon walks out. But unlike AWTWB, Baz doesn't find him again. Gosh... I wonder where he went, with his wings and everything.

Meanwhile, small update on my Klaine fic: Waffle the chinchilla has been found! If you're reading this, feel free to come up with more names for little animals. I have 7 vacant spots.

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @bazzybelle @dragoneggos @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @justgleekout @cerriddwenluna @tea-brigade @ivelovedhimthroughworse @moodandmist @whogaveyoupermission @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @ionlydrinkhotwater @1908jmd @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @chen-chen-chen-again-chen ​ @cutestkilla ​​ @artsyunderstudy ​ @martsonmars ​ @facewithoutheart ​ @shrekgogurt @boyinjeans @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @blackberrysummerblog @whatevertheweather

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

When will I be done with this chapter of Depth of Reason? WHEN??!!

Just picture me staring blankly at my screen while I try and get the words out. I feel so close and yet…sigh

Anywho, have a lil’ something that may or may not make the final cut:

I can hear Baz’s feet shuffling along the grass as he gets closer to me. 

“Can’t you see you are cared for? Just as you are?” he says softly. 

“You sound like my therapist,” I say. I try to laugh, but it comes out as more of a sniffle. “Yeah, I know,” I say, bobbing my head, “I’ve got Penny and Shepard. Gran and Uncle Jamie. I had Ebb.” 

Baz clicks his tongue. I can practically hear the eye roll that comes with it. I feel his hand grip my shoulder as he turns me to face him. “I was talking about me, you numpty.” His expression is fierce and determined. “I care for you.”

It is likely I will go home, read this tonight, and promptly delete it and try another angle for this convo 🤣 Can you see why it’s taking so long? 🙃

Thanks for the tags of Sunday @facewithoutheart @palimpsessed @aristocratic-otter @larkral @j-nipper-95 @shemakesmeforget @forabeatofadrum @ic3-que3n @hushed-chorus and to everyone who tagged my today as well I love you all. I’ll be reading your work later today 💜

Also tagging @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @captain-aralias @sosoapi @raenestee @thewholelemon @ileadacharmedlife @whogaveyoupermission @valeffelees @ebbpettier @letraspal @blackberrysummerblog @shrekgogurt @artsyunderstudy @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @imagineacoolusername @ivelovedhimthroughworse @mysterioussheep and anyone else who'd like to share

[greypetrel]

hiiiii for your Shepard Max!!

the lovers: love, harmony, mutual attraction; “I love you so much.” possible AUs/settings/ideas: fluff, soulmate au, confessions, mutual pining

Hi Rowan! Thank you for asking and here you go. It’s silly, it’s light, you can totally forget the galaxy is under attack if you have rock music playing loud enough. (a note: I do like Miranda a lot, but Max’s opinion differs from mine. They grew on each other as rivals, but their start was rough.)

Tis the prompt List

Through the bars of a rhyme

[ Shepard (genderfluid) x Liara T'Soni | Full spoilers for Mass Effect 2 and 3 | 3935 words ]

The Lovers. Upright: Love, unity, relationships, balance Reverded: Disharmony, imbalance, conflict, detachment, bad choices, indecision

2185 – Normandy SR-2

There were no messages from Liara, when Shepard managed to finally sit down.

And maybe go through their mails without anyone to watch them. Hopefully.

They stopped their index finger upon the key to open the first message, hesitating, and looked up instead. Searching for cameras, cctvs, anything.

There were at least eighteen thoughts about having been brought back from death by Cerberus they had to examine. The Illusive Man left them feeling like they were watched and weighted, examined like a fish in a shop. How bright were their eyes, how long ago had they been caught, if their meat was still good to eat, if the fishmonger left the entrails in and the scales on. Sure, Miranda had an interest in keeping them safe. Keeping her investment and her fucking project alive.

Max’s first instinct was to unscrew a pothole in that absurdly big cabin and deprive the pretentious, classy bitch of the satisfaction. They already knew how painful and quick that death was, after all.

But-

Joker.

Beside the mission -someone else could have done it. They didn’t really need them- Max couldn’t leave Joker there, on his own in the grasp of fucking Cerberus.

Not after he threw away a career in the Alliance to follow them.

They would die before admitting it openly, but they were far more grateful for his presence there than they were for a second chance at life.

“Ok, then.”

They patted their hands on their thighs and rose. A quick glance on the messages list confirmed that there was none from Liara, and they needed something to distract themselves from the knowledge that the one person they wanted to hear from the most… Wasn’t there. Not a word, not a greeting not a “What the fuck did you do”.

Not that Liara would have ever told her that.

But nothing at all?

They had to distract themselves. Definitely.

Searching for cameras to dismount would have been a nice distraction, and a much useful one.

Chambers told them that the loft -eurgh- had been filled with everything they may need and want. And if any dossier of them they followed was accurate, there had to be a toolbox in that room, somewhere.

Miranda couldn’t get their scar right on their right cheek, sure. But giving a toolbox to an engineer was… Basic politeness? Basic politeness, surely. Or one thing to complain about if it was missing.

And so it began the operation “explore the goddamn huge room”. Max started to open each drawer and every cabinet, shuffling through the contents -who needed that many shirts?- and snorting to the things that were there because clearly people didn’t know them. Like: silk nightgowns? In pastels? Oh, no.

Nerves raising for that and because there was no sign of one single screwdriver -they would have been content with just one and a roll of duct tape- they almost missed the box, labelling as yet another fancy item – they found a hair curler! As if her bob was long enough to curl or they had the minimum intention to.

But something they didn’t know what, made them stop before slamming close the cabinet door fully.

It wasn’t a cardboard box. It was a fancy one, rigid and covered in leather, closed by metal clasps.

Weird.

Max huffed, shrugging it off and deciding to open it nonetheless. Just for completeness.

Surely it held some other shitty thing she didn’t need, like… They didn’t know. A vertical iron steamer. Miranda looked like the person who would have thought a vertical iron steamer was a basic need necessity, as if anyone looked at how many wrinkles your clothes had when you were shooting at Collectors.

Sitting crossed-legged in front of the cabinet, Max unlocked the box, and yelped when she saw the content as they had just seen a ghost.

Their vinyls.

Their family’s vinyls collection. The one her family collected and kept, brought along from Livorno to Mindoir. The one Max escaped the Batarian attack with. The one they dragged with them wherever they went, the one that held all their childhood.

The one they were sure died with them on the Normandy.

Joey Tempest was looking at them from the cover of The Final Countdown, with the very indenture from mamma’s nail that signalled it was their copy, and not another one.

They shuffled through the discs, checking if there was everything.

The paper sleeves were more worn out, some weren’t their copies but were the right titles, but everything was there, up to the last one she didn’t really like but her grandpa did – Dire Straits. They knew the list by heart still, and the thought was at the same time comforting and heartbreaking.

Max felt the urge to cry.

It was better than any message she could send her, in hindsight.

Because there was a handful of people that would have known to look and retrieve those discs.

But there was only one who knew the whole list.

---

2183 – Normandy SR-1

“Don’t you find it weird?”

Max asked, half a laughter in their voice not betraying how much her heart was in her throat with nerves at the question. They carefully checked their position, slouching a little more against the wall of her cabin, arms crossed to their chest and an ankle crossed over the other. Very casually as if they were doing nothing special at all.

“Should I?” Liara asked, sitting on the chair of their desk, looking up at them again. Her brows furrowed minutely in doubt. “Who else found it weird?”

“Well, you know… In chronological or alphabetical order…” Max pretended to think about it. “Everyone.”

“Everyone?” Liara wasn’t convinced.

“Yup.” Max nodded.

“Why so? It’s just… music?”

The Asari really looked out of her depths. She carefully deposited the vinyl she was looking on the pile of others on her lap, placing both hands flat on top of it right after. Treating them like they were precious and could break if handled badly. Professional deformation, most likely, but it felt a little like it was Max that she was treading so carefully with.

“Yeah, in a storage medium that’s out of production since a century, difficult to store and transport, it takes up so much space, readers are rare and expensive, complex to build by yourself… They’re a relic and I can’t listen to them, basically, and I’ve heard more complaints about my playlist than about everything else I did commanding this ship.”

Max realized only then that it was such a stupid thing to say she couldn’t think of many other that were worse. Why not talking about ex partners since they were there? Boia, they hadn’t even kissed yet -well they almost did but were interrupted, it didn’t count- and Max was already making it awkward. They plastered a smile on their face and laughed, shrugging it off and waving a hand in the air, dismissively.

“Joking, of course.”

Liara didn’t laugh. Liara looked down at the discs in her lap and took some time to think, caressing the cover of the first in line - The Final Countdown, and Max totally, absolutely didn’t take it as a sign. It was just a case that she had stopped on their favourite. On what had been mamma’s favourite.

“I think it’s sweet that you still keep them, even if you can’t listen to them directly.” The Asari moved the pile on the desk with the same care of before, making sure they were all stable before letting it go. “But I’m an archaeologist, loving old things no one can nor should use anymore is the basic requirement for my career.”

She rose up and smiled at her, cheeks taking a shade of blue that looked deeper than before. Max interpreted it as a blush, and smiled back at her, her heart singing in relief. As close as they could get in presenting her new love interest to the family, and it went well.

“And who knows, maybe one day you’ll be able to acquire a reader.”

“I’d need a bigger cabin.”

“Never say never?”

“With the Alliance fundings?"

They shared a laugh, sweeping the awkwardness of the moment away. It felt more natural, then, that Liara had walked closer. Too close.

It felt as much natural for Max to lean forward.

“Can I?”

“P-please.”

Her lips were soft, and Max started to think that Dire Straits weren’t as bad as she had always thought. To Romeo and Juliet they could relate, right then.

---

2185 – Hagalaz

“Dr. T’Soni has left something for you, dr. T’Soni.”

Liara sighed, putting her terminal down to face Glyph. For all Max’s effort, they had managed to switch the drone to call her dr. T’Soni, that was true. Which was nicer than being called Shadow Broker -she still didn’t feel the title as belonging fully to her. The only issue was that the drone now referred to everyone as dr. T’Soni.

Max had apologized, saying that with such a short time, and so many more urgent reparations to be done to the outer shell of the ship, they and Tali couldn’t do more than this. Shepard, Garrus and Grunt had taken down quite the number of antennae and outer components to break in, after all, and if Liara wanted to survive on that ship and in that role, shields and communications were the priority.

Glyph had been a favour. A thank you for the dinner and the talk and well. The rest.

“Which dr. T’Soni are you talking about, Glyph?” She asked, massaging her temple.

“Dr. T’Soni who commands the Normandy, dr. T’Soni.”

Of course.

Liara felt irritation and unease rising in her throat. She told them not to do anything. But telling Max Shepard what to do most often than not resulted into having them doing the exact opposite.

How they survived as a subordinate in the Alliance, Liara never understood.

Nonetheless, she rose and headed where Glyph led her to see that “something” Max left her.

Liara knew that that dinner had been a mistake. She should have cut it right there and then, left them free. Cut the ties before having to mourn them all over again. Running to the Omega 4 relay was suicidal, Max hadn’t had the audacity to say otherwise either. And she had the audacity for much of anything. Including jumping into a relay no one ever returned from on a Cerberus mission.

It had been a mistake.

It had been a mistake falling -because Liara knew herself and she fell, hard and deep- for a human that would have lived but for a blink of an eye and that hadn’t fallen as hard, that was clear. Rekindling that fire, now that she had made up her mind, build herself another life from scratch of the wreck that she had been after the Normandy -the first one- was destroyed. She couldn’t do it again, and she should never have boarded the SR-2 again.

“Just one for the road” they had told them. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

It meant everything, for her, and it scared her that Max had behaved with their usual happy-go-lucky, carefree demeanour. Like nothing ever mattered beside going with the flow. Like Liara didn’t matter enough to leave her with sadness and regret.

Goddess, if they knew how long and how difficult it had been to retrieve all her damn records…

But no.

Letting doubt and fear turn into rage wouldn’t do. Liara had better things to do.

She would enter her cabin, see whatever Max left -a bottle of her Italian fizzy drink of choice, no doubt- and went straight back to work. Like removing a band-aid.

The door slid open in front of her, and she thanked Glyph for letting her in first.

“Goddess-”

Whatever she thought she would have found in there, that wasn’t that.

Balancing between the pillow and the headboard of the bed, the paper sleeve reflecting the neon light above, there was one of said bloody vinyls she all but spat blood to retrieve. With a post-it stuck on the front.

Liara ran to the bed and took it in hand, caressing the the cover. The singer in black and white, looking to the side with a smile in his eyes.

Bruce Springsteen, the album Born to Run.

The post it just recited two simple lines in a messy, angular cursive she knew all too well and she didn’t think she would have seen again.

Together, Wendy, we can live with the sadness I'll love you with all the madness in my soul

(etc etc but I didn’t get bigger post-its.)

Max-

Oh she hated her. Her and her post-its and her ways from a century prior.

She almost didn’t realize she had dialed the Normandy -they docked out half an hour before, but they couldn’t be to the relay yet- until Max’s voice rang, slightly nasal and as if she was singing.

“Yeeeeees?”

“Whoever uses post-its anymore?”

“People of taste, of course.” They huffed. “And of money, can you believe those ones were the most expensive I could find? And they’re so small. Thieves.”

“Why did you get them, then?” Liara sat more comfortably on the bed, carefully placing the disc on her propped up legs.

“Because it’s Cerberus money I was spending. On hindsight, it may have been better to buy the bigger ones in a ridiculous quantity to push the price up. Mh. EDI, notify me in two hours to buy a shitton of huge post-its.”

“Yes, Shepard.”

The computer sounded a little resigned, if an AI can even express feelings.

“Yeah, well… Pretend I thought of this before and I wrote the rest of the lyrics of that verse.”

“Aye aye, Commander.”

They chuckled at that, and there was a full minute of awkward silence, full on unsaid. It felt bad to hang down, it felt unfair to drag this on. On the background of the call, Liara could faintly hear other voices, and heard Max answering distractly, correcting the and giving orders.

“Max, I-”

“There is-”

They said, at the same time. It broke the tension and made the both of them giggle as if they were far younger than whatever their documents said.

“You first.” Liara told them.

“I left another thing in the bigger cabinet in your cabin. Hope you don’t mind.”

“… You didn’t leave me that horrible trap, did you?”

“Hey. It may be the first motorbike I build, but Raffaella isn’t horrible! You’re hurting her feelings.”

“Raffaella?”

“Like Raffaella Carrà.”

“Of course.”

Shaking her head and now dreading to hang the call down, all previous doubts somewhat mitigating in her mind, Liara rose from the bed. The vinyl got back on the pillow, safe as it could be -it survived a float in open space, but it was old and it was long ingrained in her to treat old things with due respect. Knowing the personal history of it only made it more important to preserve.

“Nothing named after Raffaella Carrà can be horrible.”

“It was very insensitive of me to assume the opposite, please bear her my apologies.”

“It will be done.”

Max kept chatting, talking of how Raffaella Carrà had been a great Italian personality from the 1960s onward, and made it as icon for the LGBTQ+ community, collected a great deal of international successes and sang stuff you just couldn’t avoid singing and dancing, even if she wasn’t her favourite genre. As she spoke, as usual not minding much that there was no answer on the other side, Liara opened the wardrobe, half listening and half not. When she saw, she stopped listening altogether.

“Oh, Max…”

“I thought I’d spare you the trouble of collecting them all again. Beyond the Omega 4 could be quite the bother, even for the Shadow Broker.”

Finally tears came up to the Asari’s eyes.

“I’m-”

“If you say you’re not up to the role, T’Soni. Bruce Springsteen is a gift, but I’m only lending you the rest, ok?”

“Are you sure-”

“When this is over, I’m coming back for them.”

“Max, if you-”

“I’m coming back for them.”

They said it with such sureness and determination that Liara almost believed they would have. That passing through an abandoned relay counted as a normal Tuesday activity. A couple of tears fell on the black leather of the box.

“And well, if you could be with them too when I do…” And then they hesitated. “… Well, uh, I’d be happy, that’s it.”

Liara nodded as an answer, blinking tears away from her eyes. She felt quite stupid, both for being still unsure of them, and for not answering vocally to a call.

“I- Uh-”

“Damn, you are pathetic, Shepard.”

A groaning voice Liara knew interrupted, passing by with heavy steps.

“Oh, please, Garrus.” Max groaned, on the other side of the com.

“Your music made her cry. It’s decrepit and loud, of course she’s crying.”

“Reach and flexibility, Vakarian.” Max hissed, annoyed. “Reach and flexibility.”

“You won’t have either, if you have the tastes of and act like an octogenarian Krogan.”

“Boia, dè.”  Max scoffed in italian as per her usual. “First of all, Krogans live-”

It held such an amount of normality that Liara couldn’t find it in her to complain because what had to be a call of two now had a third person in it and it ended up in the other two bickering. She had almost forgot how homey it had become on the Normandy, before… Before.

She just held close to her chest the box with Max’s records, the records that were the only thing she got left of their family, the ones that held a memory each, and kept laughing through the tears.

When Max hang down, still assuring her that they would have been back before she knew it, Liara knew for certain that she did matter.

That assurance, over and over again, and those vinyls, felt more like a declaration of love than the first time they actually told her they loved her.

Half an hour later, she was back to work, assured Feron that she was fine.

And asked Glyph to play Born to Run.

---

2186 – Normandy SR-2

Everything was set in place.

It took them days to put the plan in motion. Day upon day of sneakily entering Liara’s room as she was outside of it - she needed to get out more, and the plan would have helped on that too, coincidentally. If Glyph hadn’t malfunctioned again and everything was going smoothly…

… Max had only to wait.

They sighed, sitting down in front of Raffaella the motorbike cross-legged. It wouldn’t have done waiting idly, so they may as well get some work done. Work on the bike had considerably slowed down since they had not access to Cerberus’ infinite  fundings anymore, and their petty crusade in spending them in the silliest possible ways was officially over.

The fuel tank was bothering her particularly: the gasket had something defective, and as much as Max tried to reshape the rubber, fix it with heat, tighten the tube, it kept leaking. Pouring water in the tank from a glass, now, produced the same result.

They huffed, displeased and frowning at the droplets trickling down the skeleton of the bike. A new gasket was needed, but with the Reapers attacking and Earth in that state… She had to salvage something else to serve the same function. Maybe ask Tali if she had an idea. Tali always had ideas.

In the meanwhile, since Max Shepard wasn’t entertaining a hobby to get bored by it, they decided on the engineering panacea. The solution for everything. The final answer to life, the universe and everything.

Duct tape.

A good roll of tape around the junction would do. Why spending more money on a new gasket when you have cheap, humble, extraordinary duct tape at your disposal?

There. All done. This time water didn’t leak.

Feeling very proud of themselves, Max looked around to see what was the next thing in line when-

A loud guitar riff started to blast from the interphone.

It stopped.

Max smiled wide, looking up at the speaker.

The same guitar riff started again, and it kept up for more time before stopping.

It started and stopped five times, and Max got back to work, humming alongside Angus Young’s guitar as it started again and again.

The sixth time, the song kept up, unstopped, and Max knew what would have come in some moments.

“Shepard, the crew is complaining.” EDI dialed in, sounding resigned. “Again.”

“Tell them I’m the Commander, and the Commander chooses the music.” Max answered, unbothered. “They should thank I have taste, Anderson liked disco.”

“Must the music in private cabins be dialed in the whole of the ship?”

“Not the one in everyone’s cabin. I’ll fix it, worry not, I just need to-”

“Shepard.”

Max looked up from the bike leaning to the side so she could see up the stairs to the door. Liara, still in her pajamas and with just a silken dressing gown not closed on, was glaring at her from the door, absolutely livid.

She was so beautiful when she was angry.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Max beamed, smiling brightly at her as if nothing had happened. “Did you sleep well?”

“Shepard, why are my cabinets playing music when I open them?”

“Oh it’s you?” Max asked, faking surprise. “Lucky, can we change cabin?”

“Max.”

“it’s such a great song.”

“Max, it’s playing in the corridors!”

“’Cause the walls start shaking, the Earth was quaking-” They sang, returning to work.

“And in your cabin and-” Liara stomped down the stairs to reach her.

“-My mind was aching-”

“Tell me you didn’t program my cabinets to play AC/DC in the whole ship whenever I open them.”

“-And we were making it and yooou-”

Max hopped back up on her feet and grabbed Liara’s hands, twirling her around and close to their body.

“-shook me aaaaaall night long!”

“I’m serious, Maxine!”

“Oh, me too! Yeah yooou shook me aaaall night long-”

Their full name was a low hit, but who cared now? They had the Asari they loved in her hands, finally free to see her without permits and documents and whatever after six months of home arrest, commanding their ship, free from Cerberus, with a crew they could choose and yet another suicidal, galaxy-saving, impossible mission to accomplish.

Everything was grim and dark, but Liara was not, Liara was there, their records were back in her bedside table, and at the possible end of the galaxy, Max Shepard could take a breather and concentrate on the good in life.

They knew perfectly well that the anger of the Asari would not have lasted so long. And indeed, it lasted only to the end of a very badly sung chorus before she sighed deeply, shook her head and stopped resisting Max’s attempt at dancing to join her in.

“I’ll fix the cabinets back, I promise.” Max told her, leaning forward to catch Liara’s lips in a kiss.

“You’d better.”

“But it is a great song, isn’t it?”

“I love it.”

Liara kissed again, and for three minutes, everything was good and the music was nice. Her grandma was right, when she said Max had been named after Maxine Sullivan in one particular song. It was later than everyone thought, and since it was, they all may enjoy themselves when they still had time.