craftylittlenerd

[craftylittlenerd]

[craftylittlenerd]

[craftylittlenerd]

did anyone order some desperate begging mess garrus vakarian porn

[craftylittlenerd]

[craftylittlenerd]

[craftylittlenerd]

After the druid in your party leaves, a bear strolls up—oddly friendly. Suspicious, the mage casts Speak with Animals. The bear says, "I heard your fake-bear left. I'm real, I'm better, and I'll work for fish, meat, and honey. Deal?"

[craftylittlenerd]

PLEASE GOD PLEASE. me3 reunion sex.

HADSJAJFKDFEFKL I almost took the last word off to make it less obvious what it was but I couldn't do it... i couldn't lie to the people

it's exactly what it sounds like.... specifically post rekindling but before the one-turian woman conversation so there's just a little bit of ✨questioning✨ I started it as an exercise to prevent me from going into writer's block but I got hyperfixated and it keeps getting longer.

little snippet of the intro

“Bring up that bottle of the good stuff with you,” she had told him, and yet it ended up just like their first night together before the Omega-4 Relay: unopened and abandoned on Shepard’s desk. This time, Garrus had barely had a chance to offer a greeting before she was wrapping herself around him, pressing kisses to his face and neck with an almost crazed fervor. Her mouth crashes to his over and over again, hard enough that she knows her lips will swell and her teeth will ache, but that’s the least of her worries. He tastes better than she remembered—all gunmetal, smoke and earth, so sharp on her tongue it almost stings—so much so she almost wants to do nothing more than sit him down on the couch and spend the remainder of the night cycle learning how bruises look on the leathery surface of turian’s neck. With the way Garrus practically melts under her touch—breath stuttering warm on the side of her face, dual-toned groan reverberating all through her own chest—she thinks he might actually let her. Shepard steps backward, guiding him blindly down the stairs and towards her bed. Her fingers grope inexpertly over his clothes. She doesn’t quite remember that part, the how-to on taking it off. She just remembers the part where they’re off, to be bunched up somewhere in the far corner of her cabin. She tugs at them until Garrus’ hands cover hers, guiding her fingers over the hidden clasps and fasteners until fabric falls to the floor on its own. A thrill goes through her that he doesn’t stop her, or slow her down, clearly just as excited to get to the actual good stuff as she is.

[craftylittlenerd]

Do any of my Mass Effect peeps have headcanons about what alien languages actually sound like? Without translators?

[craftylittlenerd]

[craftylittlenerd]

[craftylittlenerd]

Do you get it now? Without due process, everyone is at risk. How are you going to prove your citizenship otherwise?

[craftylittlenerd]

kiss

[craftylittlenerd]

hey

[craftylittlenerd]

ride

[craftylittlenerd]

Sometimes… it just gets a little too much.

[craftylittlenerd]

[craftylittlenerd]

Happy birthday Commander Shepard！🎂🎂🎂