It was another monotonous day at work. You sat at your desk, the hum of the office around you, when you turned to look at the woman sitting next to you. Wanda was a force of nature, her immense, hulking frame practically filling her entire cubicle. At 8’7” with muscles everywhere, she was impossible to ignore. Her broad shoulders and powerful build were in stark contrast to the other, more typical office workers, but there she was, quietly working away in her formal shirt and shorts. Her blue eyes, soft and calm, were focused on her screen, and her dark black hair was neatly tied back.

Suddenly, a soft curse broke the silence. "Crap, my pencil broke," Wanda muttered, frustration clear in her voice, though she didn’t raise it above a whisper. Even in a moment of annoyance, she exuded a quiet strength and kindness, a contrast to the immense power her body suggested.

You couldn’t help but glance over. Despite her towering, muscular presence, Wanda had a quiet, gentle aura about her. She was the type of person who could crush a car with ease but would never raise a hand in anger.