serendipitys-teapot - Tumblr blog

[serendipitys-teapot]

B.S.T - big sexy turian

[serendipitys-teapot]

100 days of art, 67/100.

Why does my favorite character in this franchise have to be so goddamn hard to draw.

Anyway, doodle because I tried and failed to get my ME1 playthrough done today and didn't have much time.

[serendipitys-teapot]

“Your best has my mandible on the floor. Damn!” Finished these two cuties today! Still debating with myself, if something not safe for work next, or something Baldurs Gate :D

[serendipitys-teapot]

dreamt a cipher - chapter 7: Blueshift

a shepard/garrus post-destroy ending longfic.

fic link // chapter link

Excerpt:

“The Kessler,” says Major Rana, grunting a little as she uses her small frame to lug about the metal sheet that’s half again her height, “is mediocrity become gun.” Shepard watches the progress from her spot on the floor, blinking placidly at the sight of the woman’s red-flushed fingers holding on to the edges for dear life. Sweat gleams in streaks off Rana’s brow like credit-store-bought body glitter. It makes her look vaguely asari, except not quite fishy enough. She’s thirsty, actually, now that she’s thinking about fish. She files that information away for later, unspecified time, low urgency. “Hahne-Kedar’s had the Alliance in a chokehold since ‘57, and—guh—porca troia—” The metal sheet thunks down onto the floor, missing the tips of Rana’s toes by scant inches. The whole room wobbles under the force, jostling Shepard’s spine. Rana sighs. “Maybe we should use the mechs as targets, Commander. It’s got to be better than this. Anyway—there’s no good reason why they can’t invite other big names like, say, Rosenkov Materials to the table—at least let them have a foot in the door—” Apropos feet. “You should be wearing armor for this,” says Shepard, feeling the phantom twinge in her own re-grown appendage. She starts rubbing the heel of her free hand over the floor. The metal squeaks against her palm. If she closes her eyes, she can almost imagine it sounds like her late hamster, though why she’d want to imagine that escapes her a second later; she’d shamefacedly flushed him down the toilet because she couldn’t bear the thought of attending another memorial, not even one for a shoebox. Doesn’t mean she didn’t cry. She rubs a hand over her face. It smells like pennies and rubber boot soles. Her eyelashes are damp—

-> continue reading on AO3.

[serendipitys-teapot]

Tagged by @dispatchwithlove Thank you for including me!

Shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. Then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals

So, I usually listen to music either when I'm driving or when I'm writing. And unless my son is controlling the music selection (in which case we listen to either the Bluey OST or Laurie Berkner...), I usually like to pick something that matches the mood of whatever scene I'm brainstorming/writing. These are all from the playlist I've put together for my current WIP project! It's something of an action fic, which I think is about to be obvious.

1. Mob Psycho 100 OST - Explosion of Mob feelings (モブ・感情の爆発)

2. Hell Hound · David Arnold, Good Omens OST

3. All Is Hell That Ends Well · Thomas Bergersen

4. Wake Up · Sebastian Böhm

5. Rinzler (From "TRON: Legacy"/Score) · Daft Punk

I've been pretty absent from Tumblr, so I have no idea who has already participated in this, but I'll tag @misseffect @otemporanerys @diaphanouso @milkywayes @lilmissnatcat24, but no pressure, of course!

[serendipitys-teapot]

happy birthday, woman of all time (and space)

[serendipitys-teapot]

[serendipitys-teapot]

Singularity

Rating: Mature Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian Additional Tags: Smut, Angst, Memory Loss, Hurt/Comfort

Chapter 1: Recognition

Jane explores Archangel’s features in return, admiring the strong angle of his mandibles, the broad sweep of bright blue across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Nothing grips her as much as his eyes, though, piercing and kind. She wishes she could swipe her hood away, cast the protective shadow back to let him see her eyes, too; maybe soon she’ll stop looking like a radium girl, glowing and adjacent to death. Then she’ll let him see all of her. She slips her gloves off instead, places them on the table, but isn’t sure what to do next. His hand raises to her cheek, a finger brushes the curve of her jaw, and her heart kicks to a steady rhythm, beating, beating in her chest. His finger slides towards her ear, nudging her hood so that it shifts, tickling her brow. She catches his hand, worried he’s going to pull it down, exposing her eyes and her scars, and instead of doing something rational, like letting it go, she places it to her lips, pressing a kiss to his bent knuckle. Embarrassment rushes through her, every muscle in her body tightens. Time hangs by marionette strings around them, his hand still captured in hers, his finger still a thread’s width from her mouth. She expects him to pull away, ashamed or regretful, but he allows her to hold his hand, so still, so patient. He understands her. First a breath fills his lungs, one fills hers, and then she kisses his knuckle again, kisses his fingertip, kisses his palm and holds it to her cheek, feels alive for the first time since waking up.

[serendipitys-teapot]

[serendipitys-teapot]

[serendipitys-teapot]

WIP Snippet

Hi, friends! Been a little MIA on social media the past few months, life has got me by the proverbial balls. But that doesn't mean I haven't been writing. Part 1 (of 2, I think?) of my current WIP is about 5-6 chapters from being done, and I'm so excited to share it all with you when that time comes. In the meanwhile, I'll try to share a few snippets here and there that won't spoil anything.

A cool, damp wind blew over the barren moors. The early evening light filtered through the hazy clouds that covered some of the sky, and rain clouds were visible off in the distance. A number of ancient looking stone walls stretched out over the rolling hills in fits and starts, and the occasional small clump of short, scruffy trees or shrubs dotted the landscape. It was one of those shrubs that Shepard lay under as she adjusted her scope. She looked up, scanning the readout on her visor before looking back through the scope. On a distant hilltop, a man worked quickly to load a truck with crates, his eyes darting back and forth as he searched for danger. Shepard smiled and lined up the crosshairs. She pulled the trigger and watched the spray of red blood. The body dropped to the ground, painting the surrounding grass with bright droplets. Quickly, she shimmied out from under the shrub and readjusted herself amongst a nearby bush as her visor pinged. The targeting system picked up her final mark. She began readjusting settings to account for the wind and other factors as the woman down below continued digging a ditch at breakneck speed. Shepard checked her visor readout one last time before taking aim, her finger tightening on the trigger, and then- A timer went off in her ear and the woman’s head exploded a split second later. Shepard cursed and let her finger off her yet unfired trigger as she shut her eyes. “Damn it.” She hissed, and with a sigh, she pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Very good, Shepard.” Garrus’ words filtered through her visor from wherever he was hiding, and she rolled her eyes with frustration. “Not good enough.” She grunted as she stood and folded up her sniper rifle before re-affixing it to the mag lock on the back of her belt. She attempted to wipe the mud off the damp knees of her camouflage print pants, a pointless endeavor at this point. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Garrus scoffed, and she turned to see him emerge from a copse of trees on a nearby hilltop. He began the long trek toward her location as he folded up his own rifle, and so she began tramping through the mud in his direction. “I didn’t get all the targets within the time limit.” She pointed out in a manner-of-fact tone as she brushed dirt and stray leaves off her shoulders. A beam of light broke through the clouds above, stretching out over the landscape and illuminating the golden waves of undulating grass in a far off field. She took a moment to appreciate where she was standing and the breath-taking wild beauty of the world around her. “You weren’t expected to. The goal was to get as many as you could, not necessarily to get them all. The fact that you got all but the last one was fantastic. That last kill was particularly impressive.” The compliment caused the corner of her lips to perk upwards in a half smile as warmth suffused her body. “Thanks.”

More to come!

[serendipitys-teapot]

dipping my toes into figuring out animation in clip studio... starting out with some little gifs!

png vers 👇

[serendipitys-teapot]

some mass effect doodlin’

[serendipitys-teapot]

[serendipitys-teapot]

Rannoch selfie

[serendipitys-teapot]

i'll let ya get back to work.

[serendipitys-teapot]

✧ fist bump ✧

you could be gallivanting the galaxy, and i’d still be chasing the tail of your comet.