Not another adventure blog. @shiverquiver - Tumblr Blog

ruinedchildhood

Remember when Patrick pooped a Herseys Kiss

Low key

Before and after shaving.

spacedrunk

yeh

ruinedchildhood

Are we going to forget that this happened?

theinterwebsseries

also i know the theme is really sketchy right now, everything will be changed soon

wrightedgar

jimmy neutron was really fucked up

mmazikeensmiths-deactivated2019

when you write a sentence and it rhymes

nevver

Yuko Shimizu

goatrocket-moved

"Oh, I can just hear your brow furrowing under that ridiculous visor of yours.”

estramor-deactivated20231029

He pretends not to notice the fact that she has to step on the back of one of the bodies littering the floor to get at least two inches on him. There are many things it’s better not to mention around Amirah Shepard unless you want an impromptu biotic dental procedure — height is one of them. He just looks down at her over the edge of his straight nose, for once grateful for the obstructing visor.

Being this near means her face and all its details are in sharp relief, from the streak of paling hair at her temple and the clusters of freckles to the milky line of a scar long-healed trailing over the crest of her left cheekbone. It suits her, like it always did. His marks look good on her. If she didn’t agree she’d have never let it stay, though she’s never said as much, and never will. It’s alright. He’s always been able to tell. Many things about Amirah speak loudly if you can bear to listen. She’s surprisingly sentimental.

The gentle rest of her right hand on the side of his breastplate is nothing like the twist of her other one at his chin. Her leaning in, the quiet ebb of her breath (mint mouthwash, another thing that hasn’t changed), the mirrored pose — it’s all a reflection. She’s still keeping score after all these years. Still remembering. Still competing.

"What was it you said?" she asks, voice low. He doesn’t wince even when the edge where the two segments of her armored gloves meet at her fingers cuts into the dip below his lip. “‘If you wanted me gone…’"

She watches him carefully, the specks of eerie green in her eyes alive with light, the thick curl of her lashes casting a shadow on her skin. He moves in despite himself when she does too, but when what’s expected doesn’t come, he blinks… and waits, until he hears the beep of Amirah’s boot tripping the security system he’d avoided getting in here.

What a nuisance.

Shepard’s lifting her leg from the path of the motion sensor when she lets go and steps back, a corner of her mouth turned up in as much of a smile as she can manage. That’s one action she can’t imitate, excellent memory or no.

He shrugs off the invisible tension on his shoulders and draws himself up properly, feeling a faint fizz of amusement when it becomes evident just how much taller he is. He has a few minutes, he thinks, wiping the blood on his chin with a finger — not like the guard in this place could do anything to stop him, but needless fights without a challenge are not something he’s in the mood for today.

"Better get going," he says slowly, and she raises a brow at him. She hasn’t moved by the time he kicks an air-vent open and lifts himself into the crawlspace with a single powerful pull of his arms. She only shakes her head when she’s sure he can’t see her any longer.

She’ll have the last word between them someday.