but how badass would it have been if ashley williams was bisexual, and it in no way interfered with her beliefs and she was as down to earth and upfront about it as she is about everything else?
here’s a confession: i used to hate sheploo.
i know, right?
it’s like those stories about people who hate one another and then suddenly they’re dating.
i’ve always kind of preferred shepard/garrus as an asexual romantic entanglement of two nerds who have been so career focused that neither of them know how to flirt so they just one up each other constantly and then gently headbutt instead of kiss
don’t think i ever posted this one? i miss these two and i’m really disappointed in myself that i haven’t finished the last chapter of their reunion fic.
i have a finished story about all grown up them that’s kind of… the end, but. it’s so old now i don’t think it matters.
sometimes i still think about that mshenko hockey au.
shepard the old dog who everyone says has had his day, and this is probably his last season. kaidan the goalie, who’s an even older dog but goalies, you know, they last a little longer. young buck james the up and comer who likes to give them all hell and tends to play a pretty physical game. lanky vakarian, who is unfailingly where shepard needs him to be at just the right moment. their lists of assists to each other are miles long.
head coach anderson. cortez, everybody’s favorite massage therapist. doc chakwas, who keeps everybody in fighting form. conditioning and skating coaches williams and lawson, who could basically mop the floor with all of them. doc t’soni, the one you talk it out with if you’re worn down.
and don’t forget joker, the publicist and unofficial team comedian.
yeah, shepard’s last season would be a big one.
never discuss religion, politics, or mass effect
Shepard gets old before his time.
He’s old when he’s just a kid in the shelters on earth, growing up hard scrabble with no memories of being held in arms that want to hold him. When he was picked up, it was to be moved aside, put away. Left behind.
He’s old when he’s fourteen, pistol too big in his skinny hand, standing in some dirty alley waiting for Finch to close a deal inside one of the city’s filthiest clubs. Even the alley is lit hot pink in seedy neon, but if they move this red sand they can sleep under a real roof for a night or two. If they move it for the right price, they’ll be able to hit up the ramen stand on the corner and have a bowl each, with meat and vegetables and those salty fishdog slices with the swirls in the middle. If they can’t move it, they’ll take some of it, because when you were starving it was the next best thing. It made you forget. When Finch stumbles outside, grin jagged, and holds up a credit chit, Shepard’s hope sparks. He’s hungry. In that moment he’s young, and hungry.