#and it'll be a good cleanup

[twilightichor]

I've made some progress in passing posts to the revamp Dain blog despite being told by T.umblr to go touch some grass. I posted over 100 posts and I've drafted 18 more which contain 180 addendums divided in batches of 10 each. Now, I have about 40 headcanons left and 20 studies and it'll be all good to go (I say as if it's not much, but compared to everything I've been working on today, it is little lol) and aesthetic, musings, music and meme related posts which I'll queue later this weekend. If things go well, tomorrow I'll make an official announcement of my move to the new blog.

[voidedtea]

[ID in alt]

my pieces for @strawberrij's thespius fashion zine!! quite the endeavour and adventure that turned out pretty neat i think :]

special thanks go to @ratchetclankarecute for posing/cloth references + the bulk of the image descriptions! that first image would Not have happened without them <3

[kianamaiart]

As someone aiming to go into the animation industry, it's very comforting to know that we have a lot more time to do boards than is currently allotted to me as I get my degree in it! It's so helpful to hear the process from professionals, good to know how it'll actually work when its time to work down the line.

That’s great! I will just say (because i don’t want to lull you into a false sense of security) that a month is actually quite a tight turnaround and it’s hard to keep up sometimes

It’s not necessarily that you have a whole month to board an 11 minute episode, it’s more like you have two weeks to board the entire thing, get notes, do all the notes for another week (which can sometimes require reboarding a good chunk of your episode) and then a couple weeks of production ready level cleanup

But this is also specific to bcg and every production is different! It’s a notoriously pretty demanding show. Just thought this might be nice to keep in mind!

[finalgirlmorgue]

The Rookie. . . ૮₍˶•▿•˶₎ა 

⭐﹒LEON KENNEDY X older! fem! READER ⭐﹒

⭐﹒- 1000+ words

⭐﹒fluff and smut

⭐﹒not proof read

⭐﹒comment to be added to my tag list!

⭐﹒req open

💫 - Leon and his superior are stuck in the RPD elevator...

Raccoon City Police department was made up of several divisions with distinct positions. Avoiding unequal power dynamics between employees wasn't easy. The Juvenile Crime Division was at the very bottom of the pyramid. Rookies worked alongside higher ups and Tutor officers for a period of time that serviced as a training. That's where you find yourself, in a police car with a wide eyed Leon Kennedy, an eager younger man who was your Protege for the Fall. He was staring down at his nose, a ball of nerves. His face was covered in sweat and his hair flopped over his forehead and into his eyes.

A 4 hour standoff that ended in several arrests, that was good, but it didn't help his inexperience anxiety. You had a rookie on your hands, a kid, whose sole purpose was to prove himself as a good cop. He was 4 or 5 years younger then you, but taller, he hadn't been hardened yet. he hadn't seen the world of police and justice yet or everything that came with it. That was the way these things went and he would learn soon enough.

You had met a year ago. You had gotten him through his first few weeks with the job, though not by much, he was clumsy and clueless. But you took care of him and eventually, he started to warm up to you. In the beginning, you were both awkward around each other, but you felt like there were times when he looked up to you even if he couldn't say it in words. Soon that phase passed, slowly. He called you Miss Or officer during the work day, a strict policy he had crafted himself to be completely professional with his mentor. And you would do the same for him whenever the need arose, which was all the time. Your relationship grew stronger by the day and now that your mentee had graduated from probationary period and was officially assigned his first real mission, things felt right. He was still under you as an officer and mentee, but that only meant more opportunities, more challenges and new ways for him to show his worth. He was already showing you his strengths, and it wasn't too hard for him to catch up to his peers.

He sat in the car, breathing heavily through his mouth. lips wet from saliva, cheeks reddened from the night air, hair plastered to the side of his head from the humidity. It was a perfect early morning. 4 AM. On call for a drug deal gone wrong. 12 suspects, 2 dead bodies, four of them in custody, one escaped and running and several awaiting questioning.

The golden boy was slumped, he had squeezed the trigger of his gun so many times his fingers had begun to cramp and numb. His hands trembled violently as he stared out at the crime scene. The blood was everywhere, splattered across the sidewalk, near the car of suspect #2. A pool of thick, rusty red lay at the edge of the concrete curb. It oozed along the blacktop until it stopped where the asphalt met the gravel. A dark stain. The blood had dried to a solid brownish grey.

"You gonna tap out for the night after this?" You asked.

Leon turned to you with a confused look on his face. "Uh…no. I've gotta get this done," he said. "What about you..?"

"I'll hangout until 5 or 6. I wanna be around for witnesses when they get here."

That seemed to satisfy him. Leon turned back to the street with a grim expression on his face. He leaned forward slightly, looking past the body, at the street. "when's the cleanup team gonna come around?.." Leon asked.

"soon. They blocked off the area. They're gonna put up roadblocks. We'll have some traffic cops come by later And then we'll clean it up. Just sit tight. it'll all be sorted by tonight" You paused, glancing over at the younger man, who seemed focused on his thighs, trying not to get caught up in the adrenaline rush. His hand twitched slightly. It was obvious he could use an ice pack, maybe an aspirin, or even just his own company to calm down. He smoothed out the creases in his pants. He was probably going through the motions, just getting through case by case. He was smart, strong, and had a good sense of what was right. Every cop had a phase where they lost their innocence. When they saw something, and couldn't go back. Leon looked at you for some semblance of comfort, but you just smiled gently. He gave you a smile back.

You weren't sure exactly how long you two sat in silence before a pair of police officers approached the squad car, dismissing you.

As Raccoon city sped and blurred by into streaks of muddy watercolor outside of the window, Leon leaned back further in the passenger seat, closing his eyes, exhausted by the events of the day. His head lolled back, he let out a soft groan. His muscles relaxed as exhaustion set in. You drove in silence for awhile longer, enjoying the smooth ride. The sound of his breathing filled the interior of the vehicle. You watched the city go by, in all of its dirty, corrupt glory. The skyline of downtown stretched out in front of you, tall buildings and small businesses. It was still early in the morning, but it seemed like nighttime had fallen. A heavy fog hung over the streets, giving everything a glassy haze. You rolled down your window. It was muggy in the car, humid, almost hot. Leon's skin flushed pink as he sat up straighter in the seat.

He rubbed his tired eyes and yawned. "Miss Or…uh, Miss Officer…" Leon stammered out. "Can we stop by the RPD?..please? To grab my stuff? And maybe take a shower..it's kinda sweaty in here."

You nodded. "Sure." You pulled into the parking lot behind the precinct and got out, taking your time walking toward the building. It wasn't far from the crime scene, just down the block. "I'll go with you. I'm kind of tired too. My back is starting to ache." Leon was quick to follow. As he walked beside you, he glanced down at your profile. His eyes lingered on the soft lines of your jaw and the shape of your nose, the shape of your chin. His gaze wandered back to the center of your face, which remained stoic. His eyes trailed downward, resting on the neckline of your uniform shirt, which exposed your collarbone. His gaze lingered on it again and he blushed. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked faster to catch up with you.

As you entered the main lobby, greeted by the empty Police desk in the front and an attendant behind a locked door in the back, this late night call had messed everyone up by dragging the whole force into longer hours. "We can head to the locker rooms upstairs first, lets take the elevator." You said.

He pointed his nose to the stairs that led to the second floor of the station, and so on.

Well, the elevator would be faster. Leon followed behind you as you headed forward. The elevator doors opened. The two of you stepped inside. The tiled floors inside were cracking, the paint fading and washing away with each set of feet that trod over them.

The elevator shuddered and swayed with each step and every shake of the machinery. A lightbulb in the ceiling flickered. The walls began to hum and creak, metal straining beneath the weight of its load.

Leon closed his eyes briefly as the doors slid open. He took slow steps to exit. Except.. they doors had only cracked slightly..

he doors opened just enough to taunt you – a magazine's width of space, nothing more. Just enough to see the empty hallway beyond, but not enough to escape. There was no one else in the hallways. The only sound came from Leon's footsteps. The sounds of nervous shuffling and pacing. "Well- we're stuck." Leon sighed in defeat as he stood next to you, arms crossed as a defensive mechanism. He was scared.. he always seemed to be in your presence. This was the first time he'd actually been alone with you in such a small space. The elevator was about the size of two desks pushed together. Even being on opposite ends you two were still only a few feet away. He felt uncomfortable with this proximity. He was stuck, in a tiny, dim room with you in close quarters. His face was bright red, his eyes wide in confusion, and his brows raised high. "So, what do you want me to do?" Leon mumbled quietly.

His eyes trailed downwards to your hands. The gloves you wore, the curve of your knuckles against the leather, the shape of your thumb pressing firmly into your palm with a barely contained frustration.

"Radio?" You kept your voice steady, professional.

"What about yours?" Leon's voice had an edge now, that anxious desperation creeping back in. "You must have—"

Leon patted his empty belt, color draining from his face. "I… left it in the car." The confession came out barely above a whisper.

"Perfect." The word hung in the stale air between you. "So no radio, no way to contact patrol." You ran through options in your head. The building would be nearly empty at this hour –.

"If I had mine," you cut him off, "would I be asking about yours?" The elevator shuddered again, leaving you two stumbling.

The buttons beside the door were worn smooth from decades of use, their numbers barely visible. But what caught your attention was what wasn't there – no emergency button, no call box, not even a telephone line. Just rows of numbered buttons that might as well have been decorative for all the good they were doing right now.

You pushed a number on the first row, hoping something would happen. Nothing happened, just the sound of stale air blowing in the shaft. No lights flickered on or flashed. Nothing. It was quiet. Completely silent. Just like a tomb. You reached for the next number, and found it the same. You continued pushing. You pressed three, four, five.. six buttons, all without result. You were trapped. Trapped in a small space with a rookie cop.

Leon tried to pry the doors open with his hands, putting all of the force into his forearms, but it wouldn't budge, no matter how hard he tried. He growled and threw himself against the doors, trying his best to push them apart with brute strength. "Come on!" he shouted, his breath shortening, "Just open the dang thing already!" He stopped for a moment, looking back toward you. Your eyes were staring straight ahead, unresponsive. His mouth dropped open, and his shoulders slumped.

It took several moments of deep breaths for him to regain composure. You both took a moment to compose yourself, sitting down against the wall across from the elevator door, waiting for help to arrive. You didn't know what to say, or what to do, just in shock.

When Leon eventually spoke, his tone was calm and quiet. "It's okay, don't worry, we'll figure something out." You looked over toward him as he spoke. "Don't worry. We've been through worse."

You looked at him, eyebrows drawn together as you stared at him. You bit at the inside of your cheek as you fought the urge to yell. "Quiet." I breathed. "I don't want to hear any more from you."

Leon didn't understand why you snapped at him and he felt bad for raising his voice earlier. "I'm sorry." He muttered, his head hanging low, ashamed.

You pointed your finger at his chest, backing him into the corner, back pressing against the wood paneling. You gripped his shirt with your hands, shaking violently from anger, and fear. You could feel a cold sweat build up from under your hairline and slide down your forehead. "Shut up." You spat, squeezing tighter. Your heart rate shot up to a million beats a minute. "This is your fault. Your inexperienced, clumsy, you showed up to the office DRUNK, on your first day, and somehow caused this!-" You shoved at his chest with all the force you could muster and pushed him farther into the corner of the tiny space. Your chest heaved. "Now, if you don't shut up, I'll-" You let your words fade, but your face told the rest of it.

"I'm sorry Miss… Officer." He whimpered. You let your hold loosen, releasing his shirt slowly, as though letting it breathe. Your eyes glistened with unshed tears and anger. You glared at him, your nostrils flared. Leon lowered his head as you stared him down..

"Unzip your pants." You commanded, not even flinching when he started to cry in earnest. His hands fumbled with the buttons and his knees shook. You took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to calm your racing heart, and you felt something inside of you unravel. You knew, both of you wanted this. His actions spoke louder than any words he could say and so did your desires for revenge. This was his fault, you two were alone and in a tiny space, no one else was around to hear you .

You stepped back and allowed him his time. You closed your eyes and tried to think you heard him panting. He was nervous, that much you could tell, but there was also something underneath that. Want, maybe? You opened your eyes again, just as he pushed the hem over his thigh. His face shaping into relief as he saw the outline of your hips and lower abdomen as you removed your uniform, before the jeans fell to pool at his ankles. His hands still trembled, but his breathing became steady. A soft smile crept onto your lips. You walked back towards Leon and wrapped a hand around his throat. "As your superior I expect you to listen. Do you understand me?" He nodded frantically, gulping. You pressed harder onto his Adam's apple, causing him to nod even more violently until his eyes rolled into the back of his head. You lifted your hand from his throat, allowing him to swallow air again as you backed away. "Good boy, Leon." You cooed, patting him on the shoulder. He collapsed onto the floor on his knees.

"Please.." He grasped your thighs and looked up through hooded eyes, his hands gripping your legs tightly.

"Take them off..." You whispered. The look in his eyes told you that you had won the battle already. He got to work, he knew exactly what he needed to do in order to get what he wanted without breaking eye contact. He reached out a finger, trailing it along your waist, hooking it under the hemline of your pants, teasingly running it across the front. Your stomach clenched as his finger dragged downwards, pulling them over your hips, exposing yourself to him. He grinned and brought his lips close to your underwear, kissing the front of it softly.

His hands moved upward, his fingers brushing under your belly button. You shivered under his touch and pulled at his collar, desperate for an ounce of heat. You tugged at his hair, forcing his face closer. His nose grazed your stomach as he continued his journey upwards, nuzzling your navel, and then dropping down to remove your underwear, bringing it down to your knees. He knelt between your legs, his mouth now working against your skin, hot and moist. You moaned and gripped his shoulders tightly. He looked up briefly to see your reaction and smiled triumphantly, before returning to his task.

You gasped when his tongue traced over your wet folds and you gasped, digging nails into his scalp. You were trembling, barely able to stand straight, barely able to move, barely able to breathe as he kissed you so sweetly down in between your legs. When you thought you couldn't bear it anymore you grabbed his face and pulled him up kissing him desperately, biting at his lips. It only took a moment for him to respond and soon you found yourselvss on the floor, sprawled out on the ground, tangled together, your panties tossed aside and Leon straddling you. He spread your legs, knees pressing to his shoulders.

"um.. are you... ready?.." Leon asked, his forehead against yours. Your heart pounded in response, your chest rising rapidly. "Sorry- I.. was gonna keep going.. I wanted to make you finish-" You stopped his apology by pushing him back and straddling his waist.

"Shut up." You ordered, grabbing his cheeks in either hand and pressing their foreheads together. His eyes shut tightly as you gently stroked his face. "Just.. relax for a minute.." He sighed, relaxing beneath you and opening his eyes as you two kissed, softly at first. After a few minutes, your kisses grew rougher. The two of you returned to your original position, with your lips hovering above his. "Now.." you said breathlessly. He nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek. With your permission, he slid in, his length stretching you perfectly. His movements slow and methodical, but also sloppy. He was just as inexperienced in sex as he was in police work. You bit your lip hard to stop from laughing at how cute he was being, as he thrust into you. As if sensing your thoughts, Leon began to thrust faster, his hands gripping your hips tightly, slipping slightly with each movement.

"oh god-" He whimpered shakily , his pace increasing, sweat beginning to build on his brow as you held him tight. "am I... doing it right?" His voice sounded raspy and he was flushed pink. You laughed.

"Yes!" you breathed, smiling at him. "Are you okay? Is it too much? We can stop -" His hand rested over your lips.

"No, just... be quiet." You gritted out.

"I want you to feel good, okay?" His face contorted. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and stayed still for a while, panting and sweating as he continued to thrust in and out of you. You groaned, wrapping your arms around him, holding on tighter. You felt yourself reaching climax and you knew he was too, although he wasn't quite as vocal about his feelings. You moaned and squeezed his waist with your legs, arching your back, as Leon continued to thrust. His breath coming in short gasps as he grunted and tensed up every once and a while. And finally -

With a gasp, Leon released himself inside you and you shuddered. You leaned forward and kissed his temple, resting your chin on top of his messy hair, as he slowly regained his composure. Once you were both settled back down onto the floor, you relaxed, feeling exhausted all of a sudden.

Leon turned to look at you. "Officer-"

"Don't ever call me that again." You snapped at him. Leon blinked.

"...Right." He turned back and lay next to you, his eyes drifting shut before opening again.

"I'll get you dressed."

[laswells-ashtray]

I honestly am not sure if I maybe saw it on your blog and forgot, but do you think alerudy would do somno.

Rudy being passed out exhausted and Alejandro being down so bad for his husband that he needs to slide between those gorgeous thighs, and he leaves he mess because he knows it'll piss Rudy off once he wakes up, and that means Alejandro is getting pulled by his hair and shoved between Rudy's legs for cleanup

Sorry I think I might really like Rudy's thighs...

Tell Orca I said hi by the way hope you two have a good end of the week ❤️🦍

Of all the COD ships, I do think they're the most likely to indulge in it. I like this ask.

It takes a lot of conversation before hand as to how they'd approach it and who'd be comfortable with what. But they try it once and it's a winner. A rare indulgence of sorts.

Rudy likes sucking Alejandro's cock because the man makes soft, sleepy, confused sounds as he wakes up and then realises he's about to cum in someone's mouth. Alejandro likes waking up that way.

Alejandro likes to be a terror with Rudy. Rudy will wake up with the back of his thighs, his lower back and once his chest painted with cum. Alejandro made a joke one morning about him being a mural and instead of playing mean and having sex, Rudy just pushed him out of their bed and rolled over so he could go back to sleep. He will make Alejandro apologise for his mess in the morning, with his tongue. Maybe even offer him a backhand when the apology isn't up to his standards.

[nerdallwritey]

Cheeks All Flushed (Part 2)

***IMPORTANT! PLEASE NOTE: This is Part 2 to Part 3 (it makes sense, I promise) of my Beauty and the Bard series! Find Part 1 of this chapter here. If you'd rather read it all in one go, it's also posted to AO3.

Summary: “Oh, my love,” he looked at you affectionately and crawled back on top of you to kiss you, “you are breathtaking.” “Aw-” Astarion brought his fingers to your lips. “Say ‘aw shucks,’ and I will stab you.”  Instead of responding, you kissed his fingers.  “That’s what I thought,” he said, pulling back to gently uncross your legs with his hands. “Lift please,” he tapped your knees, wanting you to bend them for him. “That’s it,” he said quietly, “good girl.” OR The Tiefling party draws to a close and you and Astarion head to bed.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 23.1k (this particular part is 4.6k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of Astarion's past trauma, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, consumption of alcohol, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, reader likes kids, shenanigans amongst friends, general party antics Spoilers: Spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 Last chance to go back to Part 1 of this chapter!

a/n: So sorry this had to be posted twice. Apparently the banter was too much for tumblr to handle all in one go. Thank you if you made it this far! Your reward is smut! Apologies to those of you here for more vampire penis, it'll show up again in the future surely, but tonight is more about tipsy/soft Astarion. I hope you all enjoy :) (Thank you once again to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!)

It ended up taking quite a long time to finish saying your good nights and goodbyes to the tieflings, knowing that they were leaving in the morning and that there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to find them when you finally made it to the Gate. 

Alfira had taken an especially long time to say goodbye to, given you were the only other bard she knew currently, and she asked you several questions to aid her in the process of writing her song about you. Lakrissa had watched on with nothing but fondness in her eyes and had hugged and thanked you when it was her turn to say goodbye.

Rolan and his siblings said their goodbyes and Rolan made sure to remind you that he’d be apprenticing under the wizard Larroakan. He drunkenly hinted that it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you came to say hi once you reached Baldur’s Gate and you promised that you would.

Danis and Bex had giggled through their goodbyes, swearing that they’d get back to the Grove safely tonight before leaving for the city tomorrow. Zevlor had thanked you and assured you he’d see to it that those who partook in too much wine would be shepherded back to the Grove with sober eyes watching them. 

Halsin had given you a big hug and told you he’d return to your camp soon to discuss next steps for getting rid of the parasites. Meanwhile, the kids bid their goodbyes in a wave of emotions; some were excited, some were sad, and others were indifferent. You smiled at the fact that they all still wore or held onto their crowns tightly.  

Polite goodbyes were exchanged with the other tieflings before saying goodnight to your companions and letting Shadowheart know that you would help with cleanup duty in the morning. 

With a yawn and a stretch, your feet carried you back to your tent. When you arrived, you were mildly surprised to see that the flaps of your tent had been drawn and that there was light flickering inside, brighter than the single candle you’d lit earlier. 

You cleared your throat loudly to make it known you were outside. “Are you decent?”

Astarion chuckled from within. “Yes, darling. Though I’m not sure if it would matter.”

You bent down to enter the tent, pushing through the canvas flaps and finding Astarion sprawled on your bedroll, a book open in his hands. He was perched elegantly among your pillows, looking as ethereal as always. 

“No, no, make yourself at home,” you teased, turning to make sure the canvas flaps were shut all the way.

“Thank you, I think I will,” to emphasize his point, Astarion sank himself further into your pillows. 

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Reading anything good?”

“Mmm, just some strange eel enthusiast’s ramblings that I found on the road.”

You lifted your eyebrows. “Oh? And what have you learned?”

Astarion sighed dramatically. “Apparently giant lightning eels aren’t technically eels.”

“Huh.”

He sat up straighter, eyeing you mischievously. “Although I was just reading about how they breed in the Sea of Moonshae.”

You snorted. “You’re not seriously trying to seduce me with eel facts, are you?”

Astarion narrowed his eyes. “You’re weird, I don’t know, figured I’d try it.” He shrugged and placed the book off to the side before extending his arms. “Come here, won’t you?”

You crawled towards him, nestling into his arms and he kissed the crown of your head.

“Read to me?” you asked. 

Before you’d gotten together, you and Astarion would spend entire evenings at his tent reading, either in silence, or to each other, depending on the topic. You’d often try to make each other laugh with silly passages and dramatic readings. It made you look forward to settling in to camp for the night after long days of fighting Mud Mephits and Wood Woads.

He chuckled. “I doubt you’ll like it. I was just distracting myself until you showed up.” He brought his face close to yours. 

You looked back at him in challenge. “Try me.”

He sighed. “Alright.” He picked up the book, still holding you in his other arm. He flipped back to the page he’d left off on. “‘Now, where can you catch eels? Bloody everywhere!’”

You snorted.

“Hush darling, you wanted this.” Astarion cleared his throat and continued. “‘From Neverwinter to Elturel to Calimport - you can find an eel. But where do they breed? And how? Well, you probably heard the stories that they’re just snakes that learned to swim, or they’re baby leviathans, or they’re Underdark spies, but that’s all bunkum.’”

“Not bunkum!” you teased. “And here I thought I knew so much about eels.”

Astarion raised his voice to get you to quiet down. “‘They breed in the Sea of Moonshae, I’m sure, and then swim all over Faerûn. And if those pricks in Candlekeep’d give me money to sail-’”

“Okay, I get the picture.” You took the book from Astarion’s hands and set it beside you.

“Told you, darling,” Astarion settled further into the pillows, bringing his nose against your throat.

You inhaled sharply when he started kissing your neck. “Should I be insulted that you thought it might turn me on?”

“I don’t need some lunatic’s musings for that,” he murmured, lightly dragging his fangs along your flesh. 

You shivered and angled your head to give him better access. “No you don’t.”

He groaned quietly. “You smell divine.” He kissed your neck again.

“You can bite me if you want,” you breathed out. 

Astarion shook his head against you. “It’s alright, love, I’ve had plenty of your blood and wild hog blood and wine today. And you’re tired.”

“How thoughtful of you. But I’m not that tired,” you whined. 

Astarion lifted his head to look at you. “Oh?” He smirked at you impishly.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said innocently, kissing your cheek chastely. In one swift motion, he rolled you onto your back, and lifted himself up to hover above you. 

Your eyes widened at him and his smirk grew wicked. You felt your cheeks flush and you looked away, trying to avoid his intense eye contact.

He bent and returned to kissing your neck, licking a stripe from the column of your throat up to your ear. “Relax,” he whispered, his hands drifting down to the hem of your blouse and pulling it up over your head.

You tried sounding normal but felt your voice catch in your throat. “Wh-at are you doing?”

Astarion kissed the valley between your still-clothed breasts. “Taking my time.”

You hummed and twisted your fingers into his hair. “You’re sending a lot of mixed messages.”

Astarion looked up at you, his tone seductive. “Is it not obvious how much I want you?”

You laughed softly. “No, you’re making that quite clear, but you said you needed time to get used to having a choice. You’re not forcing yourself, are you?”

A small smile graced Astarion’s features before he surged upwards and kissed you deeply. When he pulled back, his eyes were soft. “You’re far too nice to me. It’s disgusting.”

You shrugged awkwardly. “I care about what you want.”

He kissed you again. “Thank you, love, but yes, I’m fine. Tonight was a celebration! And I fully intend on celebrating.” He smirked at you again, flashing his fangs.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy. When you didn’t find any, you nodded. “Okay.”

He smiled again and reached for the hem of his own shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it by where your new lute rested against your backpack. He climbed back on top of you and kissed you slowly, his tongue seeking entrance only after a few moments of clumsily moving your mouths against one another’s. His tongue glided against your own, and you moaned, once again twisting your fingers into his hair. 

You felt his hand move behind your back briefly, and suddenly he was pulling off your bra, making you whimper. 

He broke the kiss to look at you, nothing but admiration in his eyes. You shifted your gaze away, still not used to being so vulnerable in front of someone else. 

“Exquisite,” he breathed, leaning down to kiss you again and palming your left breast gently. His cool touch caused your back to arch and you whined when your burning chest made contact with his icy one. 

“Why-” you pulled away from Astarion’s kiss.

“Why what, darling?”

“Why do you think he chose eels as his hill to die on?”

Astarion plucked a pillow out from under you and placed it on top of your face, pressing gently as if trying to suffocate you.

You laughed wildly. “I yield! I yield!”

He pulled the pillow away and placed it under your head once more. “Mention eels again and I won’t hesitate.” 

“No eel talk in the bedroom, got it.”

“Possibly ever,” Astarion amended. 

“You brought it up in the first place,” you pointed out.

“A mistake I won’t be making again,” he said lowly, before kissing your jaw. He kept kissing down your chest until he reached your nipple and pulled at it lightly with his front teeth. 

You gasped and arched your back again, pulling Astarion’s curls and making him moan against your breast. He detached himself to kiss your lips, then brought his head down to your other breast to give it the same attention. His tongue swirled over your nipple at a languid pace, his cool breath against his saliva causing goosebumps to spread across your chest.

“Astarion?” You asked, angling your head to look at him.

He looked up at you, the flat of his tongue licking your nipple. He retracted it before saying, “Ask another stupid question and I’ll bite you.”

You blew out an amused breath. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

Astarion reconsidered. “In a bad way.”

You laughed. “No stupid question this time. I don’t think.”

Astarion sighed, resting his cheek on your breast as if it were a pillow.

You brushed a few loose hairs out of his face. “When will it be my turn to pleasure you?”

Astarion’s eyes went wide before settling on something soft. He took your hand currently raking through his curls and kissed the inside of your wrist. 

You continued. “Especially since I sicced a bunch of kids on you and need to make up for it somehow.”

He chuckled quietly. “Thank you, my sweet, but I think I’d prefer to be in control for now, if that’s alright.”

“Of course it’s alright,” you said, resting your hand on his cheek. “It just seems unfair that I’m getting all the attention and you’re getting nothing in return.”

He clicked his tongue. “That’s not true. I’m getting plenty of pleasure just from watching you fall apart,” he smirked and kissed you breast again. 

You inhaled deeply, “I’m serious.”

He humphed and pulled away again. “As am I.” When he saw you weren’t satisfied with his answer, he thought for a moment. “Listen darling, it’s very sweet that you want to,” he cleared his throat, “pleasure me, but as I’ve said, I’m still getting used to… well, this.” He gestured between the two of you. “I don’t really want anyone to touch me without my consent. Unless it’s you.” He avoided your gaze, embarrassed to be admitting this. “But even with that being the case, I’d still feel more comfortable focusing on you for now.”

You nodded and took his wrist that was resting next to your head and kissed it just as tenderly as he’d kissed yours. “We’ll work our way up to it,” you smiled. 

He smiled back, then narrowed his eyes seductively. “Make no mistake, I am having a wonderful time with you,” he brought his forehead to yours. “Feeling you around me is probably one of life’s greatest pleasures.”

You blew out a breath, making your lips trill. “Relax, you’ve only been in me twice. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He waved his hand in front of your face. “Ah, yes love, but you're forgetting the fingers and tongue.” He smirked at you when he saw a blush spread on your cheeks.

“Whatever,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “One of these days I’ll make you cum myself.”

Astarion chuckled. “I don’t doubt that,” he kissed your temple. “I await the day.”

“No rush,” you added quickly. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he echoed, pulling back to look at you fully again. He sighed happily, palming one breast in each hand. “What was it Withers called me again? A ‘boob buddy?’ A ‘breast friend?’”

You groaned and dragged your hands down your face. “My bosom companion.”

He leaned forward to kiss your lips. “I know love, I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

“Bastard,” you murmured. 

“But I’m so handsome and charming,” he murmured back, kissing you between words.

“Unfortunately,” you said, angling your head upwards when he moved down to kiss your neck again. 

He hummed along your throat, which sent tingles up your jaw that made you giggle. 

“I still plan on taking my time with you, my dear,” he said, hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your pants. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

“I-” you took a shaky breath, still getting used to Astarion’s undivided attention. “Okay.”

“I’m also keen to leave, if you want me to,” he was giving you an out, in case you were still unsure, but his eyes betrayed what he was thinking: I don’t want to leave.

You gripped his wrist. “Stay.”

He relaxed noticeably and hooked his thumbs into your waistband again. “May I?”

You nodded and lifted your hips, helping him get the fabric over your hips and down your legs. He’d taken both your pants and panties in one go, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You bit your thumbnail and looked at him nervously, crossing your legs at the ankle.

“Oh, my love,” he looked at you affectionately and crawled back on top of you to kiss you, “you are breathtaking.”

“Aw-” 

Astarion brought his fingers to your lips. “Say ‘aw shucks,’ and I will stab you.” 

Instead of responding, you kissed his fingers. 

“That’s what I thought,” he said, pulling back to gently uncross your legs with his hands. “Lift please,” he tapped your knees, wanting you to bend them for him. “That’s it,” he said quietly, “good girl.”

You whimpered, the cool air of the night making contact with your already slick folds. 

“It’s too bright in here,” you said suddenly. “Anyone could see what’s happening.” 

Astarion sat up, having just settled himself between your legs. “I suppose it is,” he agreed. He crawled around, blowing out candles, and you sat up, doing the same to a few that were around you. 

“Better?” he asked when all the light in the tent was out, save for the moonlight that was able to shine through the canvas and the torches that were still lit for the party that was dying down outside. 

“Yes,” you said, resuming your position on your pillows. 

“Good,” he purred, kissing your inner thigh and settling between your legs again. He tapped your thigh lightly in warning before licking your folds slowly. 

You gasped loudly and slapped a hand over your mouth, remembering that the party was still technically going on outside. 

“Shy, darling?” Astarion smirked up at you and you rolled your eyes, whimpering again when he returned to licking you. “But I love hearing you sing for me.”

He began sucking on your clit, making you shriek out a moan. You felt him smirk against you and you wrapped your fingers in his hair as tightly as you could, hoping to give him a taste of his own medicine. Unfortunately, it made him moan into you, sending delicious vibrations through your core and making you whimper again. 

He returned to licking up and down your folds. “If only you knew how delicious you were.”

“Then kiss me, asshole,” you shuddered, feeling his cold breath against your wet cunt. 

Astarion growled and climbed on top of you, kissing you harshly and making sure to slip his tongue into your mouth to let you taste yourself. He pulled away, assessing your expression. You smacked your lips dramatically. “Could be better,” you teased. “I’m sure I’m nothing compared to you.” You waggled your eyebrows and Astarion smiled, leaning forward to kiss you again. 

“In time, my love,” he promised, kissing your cheek sweetly before returning to his spot between your legs. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and began licking you again.

You reached over for your discarded blouse and bunched it up, placing it in your mouth to muffle your sounds.

“No, no,” Astarion scolded. “Let them hear us. You have the loveliest voice.” His thumb pressed tight circles into your clit and you whined before removing the shirt again. “That’s a good girl,” he praised. 

“No funny business,” you said, not liking the smirk on his face that shined with your slick.

“Me? Funny business? Never.” He lowered his face again and you nearly yelped when you felt his tongue dip into your core.

You squeezed his head with your thighs lightly. “Bastard,” you muttered and felt him smile again. As if to tease you more, he began to make loud slurping and sucking noises. “Astarion,” you whisper shouted, despite your eyes wanting to roll back from the sensation.

“Mmm?” He half asked, half moaned wantonly. His tongue continued entering your cunt while his thumb circled your clit.

“Loud,” you sighed absently, trying to be responsible, but feeling too good to be truly mad at him. 

He removed his thumb and returned to sucking your clit. He pulled away for a second to say, “Watch, precious thing, I’m going to make you cum using only my mouth.”

“You’re not going to talk at me, are you?” you laughed.

“I don’t know,” Astarion said between licks, “a joke made you cum earlier.”

“Shut up and keep tongue fucking me,” you groaned.

He chuckled and squeezed your thighs, sucking again at your clit. 

Tiny moans of pleasure escaped you, and you rolled your hips, trying to get impossibly closer to him. He hummed against you pleasantly, making you whine loudly.

“I love your voice,” he repeated and licked another stripe along your folds. His tongue entered your core again, making you squeeze your thighs involuntarily. He moved your legs apart and further locked his arms around your legs, attempting to keep them still. 

“I love whatever you’re doing with your tongue,” you exhaled, raking your hands through his hair again and massaging the tips of his ears.

He let out a moan that turned into a pathetic little laugh and the sensation sent a shockwave through your core. You rolled your hips again, wanting him as close as possible. 

“More,” you whined softly, shutting your eyes tight.

Astarion returned his focus to your clit, sucking hard and swirling his tongue loudly. He began to hum again, more prolonged this time, and you recognized what seemed to be the jaunty melody of “Bard Song.”

It surprised you, and hurled you closer to your climax. “Astarion,” you whimpered.

“Like that?” he murmured against your clit before continuing his ministrations.

“Keep going,” you encouraged. 

You felt him smile again and he continued to hum the tune he must have heard you play a dozen times by now. He nipped and sucked and swirled his tongue on your clit, all while humming. Your hands tightened in his hair and your legs began to shake.

“Yes,” he said into your flesh, “let go, my love.”

 With a few more harsh sucks and slightly off key hums, you felt yourself reach your peak and cried out loudly for Astarion. Waves of pleasure coursed through you and you felt Astarion eagerly licking around your cunt. 

“So good,” you heard him murmur between licks, “you did so well for me, darling. I adore the way you taste.”

With a sharp inhale, you opened your eyes and smiled down at him, breathless. His eyes were still closed as he cleaned you slowly, savoring your taste on his tongue.

When he opened his eyes, you saw them crinkle at the corners, indicating he was smiling. 

“There you are,” he said as if just noticing you were there with him, getting up onto his hands and knees and crawling over you again. He bent to kiss you and you sighed against his mouth.

“You like my music,” you looked up at him in wonder and wiped a bit of your slick off the corner of his mouth. 

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure that’s a fairly well known song,” he teased.

You made a face and he softened.

“Okay, yes, maybe I’ve been paying attention when you're playing that obnoxious tune.” He brushed some hair out of your face. “It gets stuck in my head, the stupid thing.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug, making him gasp in surprise. 

“Thank you,” you said softly into his hair.

You weren’t sure you’d ever properly articulate what you were feeling. All this time, Astarion had been paying attention. He’d whined and griped and moaned the entire time you’d known each other, and yet he’d been paying attention. To you, your music, your needs and desires… He was constantly surprising you with how thoughtful he was. He’d been so sweet with what you’d needed from him last night, and then today you learned he’d been holding onto a new lute for you since before he even admitted to himself or you that he had feelings for you. And just now he’d shown that he had always been listening when you played something for him and your companions. He truly hadn’t propositioned you out of the blue yesterday, he’d cared about you for much longer than either of you realized. 

Astarion laughed, relaxing his body against you and settling his face at the junction between your shoulder and neck. “I’m going to assume you’re thanking me for the excellent orgasm you just experienced and say ‘it was my pleasure, darling.’”

You let out an amused breath and mindlessly traced the raised peaks along his back. 

“You mean a lot to me,” you said quietly.

“Yick,” Astarion said, drawing tiny spirals on your shoulder with his index finger. 

“I know,” you agreed. “Imagine how I feel. You’re the most annoying man I’ve ever met.”

“You flatterer, you,” he kissed your shoulder where his face was buried.

You tapped his back lightly and made to sit up. Astarion took the hint and rolled off of you. 

You leaned forward and grabbed his discarded shirt, pulling it over your head. You inhaled deeply. “Smells like you,” you mused, batting your eyes at him before slipping into your loose sleep pants. 

Astarion looked pleased to see you wearing his shirt again, but his face fell when you peaked out the flap of your tent into camp.

“Leaving so soon?” he asked in a teasing tone, but you could tell he was a little nervous that you were actually leaving.

You smiled and kissed him softly. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Take your time,” he said airily, examining his nails, though you saw in his eyes that he wanted you to hurry back.

You kissed him again. “You big baby. Stay right there.”

You poked your head out again, looking to make sure no one was in your vicinity. You saw the backs of Shadowheart and Gale huddled near the entrance of camp, sending off the last of the tieflings with Halsin, while Wyll and Karalach’s tents were shut tight, indicating they’d turned in for the night. Lae’zel, meanwhile, appeared to be meditating outside of her tent. 

Good, you thought to yourself, I’ll make this quick.

You crept out of your tent and made your way to the left towards the lakeshore. You grabbed your now dry blanket off the clothesline, folding it over your arm.

As you were about to grab one you recognized to be Astarion’s, Withers’ voice made you jump.

“I heardest you just now.” 

You slowly turned to look at him, his face as impassive as ever. “Like hells you did, Bone Man,” you said through gritted teeth. “No one will believe you.” You thought for a moment. “No, yes they will. But keep it to yourself. I just got a bosom companion, please don’t ruin this for me.” 

You pulled Astarion’s blanket into your arms and swore you saw the corners of Withers’ mouth turn upwards into a smile, but it may have just been a trick of the moonlight. 

“Goodnight, Withers,” you said, grabbing another of Astarion’s blankets off the clothesline. 

“Sleep well,” he responded. “You likely needest it.”

You scoffed out a laugh and turned back towards your tent, quiet on your feet. You crouched down and went to crawl back in, but found Astarion hovering by the entrance.

“Oh,” he said quietly and moved back to let you in. “There you are,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“Miss me?” you smirked, tossing him one of his blankets. 

“Please,” he rolled his eyes. “I knew you’d come crawling back to me.”

You laughed and spread your blanket out over your bedroll. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching you intently as you rearranged pillows so that there were no uncomfortable lumps under the blanket. 

“Making a new nest,” you said casually. You wrapped one of his blankets around your shoulders and laid down. You spread your arms, inviting him to join you. 

He hesitated, looking down at the blanket in his arms. 

“Come here, dummy,” you said fondly, sitting up and taking the blanket from him. 

He scooted closer to you, laying on his side, facing you.

You laid beside him, wrapping the blanket on your shoulders around him too, and spreading the other one over both of your legs. 

“Now what are you doing?” he asked.

“Making us cozy so we don’t wake up freezing. It’s been getting colder at night.” You paused. “Does the cold even bother you?”

He nodded. “I can get very cold but-” he cleared his throat. “You want me to sleep with you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did we not do this last night?”

He smirked. “We did, but I don’t know, we were in the middle of the forest, it’s not like you had much choice.”

“Astarion,” you brought a hand up to cup his cheek, “I like you so much. And I want to fall asleep with you as often as you’ll let me.”

A soft smile found its way onto his lips. “You’re a clingy little shit, aren’t you?”

You huffed and dramatically turned over, facing away from him.

He laughed and pulled you closer by the hips. “Only teasing, love.” He kissed your hair.

You looked back at him. “It doesn’t have to be every night, I know you like your space, and we don’t have to cuddle or anything, but-”

He cut you off with a kiss. “Gods, you love to talk,” he said quietly. 

You pouted. “Fine, then I won’t tell you what Withers just said to me.”

He pulled you closer to him, tangling your legs together and settling his nose onto the back of your neck. “I’m sure it was something archaic and mildly cryptic.”

“He said he heard us.”

Astarion leaned up to look at you. “He did not.”

“He did.”

“Of all the…” He trailed off. “Whatever. Who’s he going to tell?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you laughed. “Everyone knows we’re together anyway.”

Astarion smiled at you and kissed your cheek before lying back down. He sighed happily. “That we are, my love. That we are.”

[candytrashpanda]

Xeno NSFW Alphabet

Fandom: Dr Stone

Character(s): Xeno Wingfield

Warnings: None

Notes: Weeee I'm finally free from requests!! This was the last thing on my to-do list! There's a couple stragglers I may or may not try and do later if I'm in the right mood but as far as I'm concerned right now I'm caught up. I'll reopen requests when I post next, tho I'm not sure what it'll be yet. We'll see! I'm back into BSD so probably something to do with that show.

ao3 | Ko-Fi

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He'll pat you on the back and give you a kiss, tell you you did good with a little smirk on his face, leaves for just a few minutes to clean up, and hold you until he falls asleep. (He sometimes forgets the cleanup step of the process, something he usually regrets in the morning when he wakes up all sticky and clammy.)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He doesn't think much about his own physical appearance, but he quite likes his fingers. They're useful for many things, from fine tuning equipment to making you moan for him.

On your side, he likes your eyes, your face in general really. He thinks you're absolutely beautiful, and loves seeing your facial expressions as he fucks you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He doesn't want too much of a mess, so he prefers to keep things contained when he comes, if you catch my drift. Condoms are ideal, if they're available, but if not.. I hope you don't mind swallowing.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He's thought up ideas to spice up your love life on occasion, but they just never came to fruition. He has blueprints drawn up for sex toys somewhere, but they're forced to sit in a drawer, unspoken of, because it would probably be a waste of resources at this point.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He honestly doesn't have that much experience. He's had a couple of flings in his adult life, but never bothered with a long term relationship before you, he was always just too busy. While he knows, generally, how to make another person feel good, you might need to teach him some of the finer points of a relationship.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes having you in his lap- it makes him feel 'in charge', while still giving you control of the pace and giving him a nice view.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He doesn't think humor has any place in the bedroom. If there's an awkward or funny moment, it'll probably kill the mood for him and he'll need a few minutes to get back into it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He shaves. Pubic hair isn't exactly elegant in his eyes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He tends to come across as pretty cold and distant while in the act, like he's focused solely on his own pleasure- which he mostly is, honestly. He'll make sure you're satisfied in the end, but his primary focus is on making sure he gets off.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He usually jacks off maybe once or twice a week, slightly less often when he's in a committed relationship. He doesn't approach you every single time he's a little horny (it just isn't always practical), so he knows very well how to get himself off, and doesn't mind taking his time with it when he has the spare time to do so.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Xeno isn't the most kinky, but he does enjoy some light dom/sub action- he's the dominant one, of course. It doesn't typically get too intense, but he finds a bit of restraint and maybe the occasional spanking very hot.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He mostly prefers to stay at home, where it's comfortable and safe, but he has a mild interest in semi-public sex. Some place that someone might just walk in on.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He's not hard to get going. Put on some sexy lingerie and act submissive. Offer him a little massage after a hard day's work. Anything like that.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

While he's okay with some light pain, he won't do anything too intense, and isn't interested in anything he'd consider gross- so, no bodily fluids. He also just won't do anything he's already tried and didn't get much out of, even if he didn't mind it too much. He's here to get off, not indulge you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He strongly prefers receiving, though he's certainly not bad at giving. He'll give you oral if you didn't come during sex, but he makes sure he's satisfied first.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He lets you control the pace a lot of the time, but when he is in control, he tends to keep it on the slower, but still a bit rough side- "sensual" definitely isn't the right word, he still puts some power behind his thrusts even if he's moving slowly.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn't mind a quickie sometimes, but it's not his favorite. He likes being able to take his time, and if there's not enough time for that he'll probably just jack off instead of seeking you out, unless you're already right there and also in the mood.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes, and yes. He'll try new things out at least once if you bring it up- being a bit vanilla, he probably won't bring it up himself, though, and if he doesn't like it the first time, probably won't indulge you again.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His stamina isn't incredible, but it isn't terrible. He lasts long enough for you to have a good time, although he can only go for one round before hed need a long break and maybe a nap to recover.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He is a fan of toys. He had a few for himself before the petrification, and he would love to introduce some to your relationship now, post-petrification- if he could get away with making some, of course.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Let's just say he loves to see you squirm. When he's in a really dominant mood, it can almost reach a point of sadism, going a little too slow, not letting you reach your peak, until you just can't stand it anymore and maybe a little longer after that.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Pretty quiet, but he lets out little noises sometimes. Soft groans, sharp breaths, maybe a few words.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Although he's pretty dominant, he also likes to bottom. He's a power bottom, he likes to still be in control- but the important part is he'd enjoy being fucked up the ass, if you've got the equipment for it or are willing to peg him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It's decently long, and somewhat thin, with a bit of a curve. If a penis can be truly described as elegant, his definitely is.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not low, not high, right down the middle, really. On his own, he'll probably want sex maybe once a week, but if you want it more he'll rarely turn you down.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

You might not expect it, but he tends to fall asleep pretty quickly after sex, even if just for an hour or two. It's pretty much the easiest way to get him to sleep- he otherwise stays up and doesn't get much rest.

[reveryfics]

Thanksgiving

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x male reader

Summary: Bucky can't remember the last time Thanksgiving was ever a thing for him. The reader having grown up in a big family invites him over.

A/n: I realize this is late and I apologize, I've been sick so I'm pretty much been stuck in bed. The readers family is Hispanic which is because I too am Hispanic and am thankful to have grown up in a larger family.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Bucky stood in front of the worn red door, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it. His first Thanksgiving in decades, and his first time meeting his boyfriend's family. A wave of anxiety washed over him as he glanced at his boyfriend, who squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Take a deep breath, Buck," his boyfriend said softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "It'll be okay."

Before Bucky could respond, the door swung open, revealing a short, plump Hispanic woman with a messy bun and a flour-dusted apron. "Oh, my baby boy!" she exclaimed, enveloping her son in a warm hug. Then, turning to Bucky, she flashed a wide smile. "You must be James." Without hesitation, she pulled him into a tight embrace and ushered them both inside.

The house was alive with activity. The air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of home-cooked food, and children were running around, laughing and playing. "Tío! You're here!" a young boy shouted, latching onto his leg before dashing off to join the other kids.

Bucky felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of people and the curious glances he was receiving. His boyfriend, sensing his discomfort, suggested they retreat to his old room for a moment.

As they sat on the old pull-out sofa, Bucky took a shaky breath. "Give it some time," his boyfriend reassured him. "My family might seem a bit chaotic, but they're good people."

Bucky shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips. "It's not that," he admitted. "I'm just not used to...having a family."

His boyfriend hummed softly, running his fingers through Bucky's hair. "Consider yourself lucky," he said. "Once this family chooses you, they never let go."

After a while, they returned downstairs, where Bucky was immediately pulled into the kitchen by his boyfriend's mother and abuela.

"Venga a saborear la comida!" Abuela urged, offering him a spoonful of one of her many delicious dishes.

"He's a good man," his mother whispered. "He'll always be welcome here, el cariño." She watched as Bucky was surrounded by relatives, all eager to meet him.

His boyfriend smiled, a sense of pride evident in his eyes. "He's something special," he agreed.

As the day progressed, Bucky found himself playing with the children, being used as a makeshift jungle gym. Despite the initial shock, he couldn't help but smile. He was finally part of something, and it felt incredible.

By the time dinner rolled around, Bucky had eaten more than his fair share. After helping with the cleanup, he and his boyfriend retired to the bedroom.

"Thank you for all of this," Bucky murmured, lying down on the pull-out sofa.

His boyfriend climbed on top of him, his warm breath fanning against Bucky's face. "Bienvenido a la familia, Bucky," he whispered.

As Bucky drifted off to sleep, he felt a sense of peace and belonging he hadn't experienced in years. He had found a home, and it was more than he could have ever imagined.

[paramountinplace]

🍓- your fics are so good!!! maybe more shauna and little van? i’ve also been obsessed with them lately!

But I Ain't Scared - Little!Van, Cg!Shauna

Summary: Shauna's having a bit of a bad day. It's intimidating to nearly everyone, but Van doesn't back down. She shows up at Shauna's door with a stack of books and a smile instead. Ft. Shauna, Van, Tai, others mentioned Hope you enjoy anon and thank you! More notes at the end.

Something is just off.

She's having that dream again, finding herself treading water in the middle of an endless lake almost without fail whenever she closes her eyes and she gasps awake each time with a shout dying in her throat.

She spaces out at odd moments during the day, tuning back in once someone waves a hand in front of her face or tugs on her sleeve and it makes her stomach flip to think she has no idea what she's done or said in the past few seconds or minutes or hours, even.

It's making her skittish, quick to anger, and Shauna's pretty sure half the house is actively avoiding her at this point. Mari had scrambled out of the kitchen that morning the moment she'd entered, tail still tucked from the argument the night prior that had ended with them both in tears. Even Lottie seemed to be giving her a berth, relenting easily when Shauna pushed back against her dinner plan. Normally, she wouldn't have given in so quickly to changing it the day of, but when Shauna had rolled her eyes at hearing the word "lentil" in the recipe title, she'd announced her pivot to a rice dish that everyone—especially Shauna—liked.

She nearly breaks when Mel shies away from her when she reaches out to grab her cup from her to bring it to the sink, dropping it into the basin a little more forcefully than intended. There's a familiar knot forming in her chest, something loaded and tense that writes her irritability plainly across her face no matter how many times she tries to wipe it clear.

"Shauna," Jackie calls lightly from the table, standing up slowly. "Why don't you go lay down for a bit? I'll do the cleanup."

Her tone is too cautious, too unlike Jackie's usual easy warmth and it makes the knot in her chest tighten even further.

"I'm fine, thanks," she shoots back, wincing at how sharp her voice is. No matter how hard she tries to come across as gentle, there's an edge to it that she can't seem to shake.

Jackie doesn't argue after that, but it only makes her feel worse. Normally, Jackie's one of the most willing to step to Shauna when she's being unfair or brash or ignorant of her own needs. For even her to shrink away, Shauna knows she must be exuding something fierce and she decides it'll be best for everyone if she locks herself in her room until whatever it is that's knotting up her chest loosens.

She's scribbling away in her journal, pen pressed hard into the pages, when the knock at her door comes and for a long moment, she ignores it. Whoever it is raps at the door again and she lets out a groan, loud enough that they'll hear it.

"Go away," she barks. It's angrier than she feels, but she'd rather have someone think she's a little upset with them then have to face the slight apprehension and fear on anyone's face when she really does get angry.

"Shauna, open up please?"

Van's voice filters through, quiet without being tentative. She's copying the way Lottie gently asks Mari to open her door whenever she gets upset and slams it shut behind her, and it makes Shauna sigh, dropping her pen on the desk to get up and swing the door open.

"What do you want?"

She has her dinosaur teddy clutched in one arm and a small pile of books in the other.

"Read?"

Shauna stares at her, not making any attempt to soften her expression to see if it will scare Van away. The redhead doesn't budge, resolute as she stares back. When she repeats herself again, Shauna silently steps aside to let her into the room.

Once inside, Van seems to lose a little bit of her confidence and she stands awkwardly in the middle of the rug until Shauna takes pity on her.

"You can pick the beanbags or the bed, bub," she drawls, gesturing widely. Van climbs up on Shauna's bed at the invitation, perching at the end of it with her pile of books and looking over expectantly.

"I was in the middle of something," Shauna grumbles, even as she's crossing the room to sit beside her, scooting back until she can lean up against the wall. She reaches for the stack of books and something twists in her chest when she starts to flip through the titles.

What To Do When I Am Sad

My Friend Is Sad

Madeline

Van shuffles closer to lean up against her side, unabashed as she drops her head down on Shauna's shoulder. She doesn't seem to be fazed by whatever it is that seems to have been making everyone else walk in circles around her all day and Shauna wonders vaguely if she's picked that up from Tai.

"Do you actually want to read these, tiger, or did you bring them for me?"

She's not going to beat around the bush. She's too tired for that. Van shrugs, leaning forward to grab at one of the books. She pushes her teddy into Shauna's hands to hold as she flips it open to examine the first few pages. After a few seconds, she shakes her head.

"Bring—brought them for you," she admits. She gnaws at her cheek for a moment and Shauna's a second away from chiding her when she suddenly slides off the bed and runs out of the room.

A small part of her brain is telling her that she's managed to scare Van away too, but the rest is strangely quiet as she sits on her bed with Nathaniel Dino in her lap.

Van returns quickly, clutching a few new books and Shauna recognizes these ones as some of Van's favorites. She points at Shauna's pillows.

"I'll read," she explains softly, holding up her battered copy of How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight? Shauna's pretty sure Van has that thing memorized and she's about to make a quip about how it won't really be reading, now will it, but then Van narrows her eyes like she knows what Shauna's about to say.

"Okay, okay," she relents, settling back against her pillows. She's still got the dinosaur teddy in one arm and she tries to offer it back, but Van's already laser-focused on the first page of her book. She starts "reading," and Shauna finds herself smiling at how much Van sounds like Tai. She's copying every inflection and expression that Tai makes when she reads the story for Van, pausing at all the same spots to point out the things in the pictures that Tai does.

Shauna doesn't reply to any of the practiced questions that Van spouts about what kind of dinosaurs they are and what kind of sounds they make, but she knows Van doesn't expect her to. It's oddly kind of soothing and when she lets her eyes slip shut, it almost sounds like Tai is sitting beside her, which loosens some of the tension in her shoulders.

Van moves easily from one book to the next, picking up a cadence for it that Shauna recognizes as her own. She stumbles a little more over this one, not as familiar with the rhythm of it, but her voice stays relatively quiet and for once, Shauna realizes, Van's not fidgeting relentlessly as she sits and reads.

She can feel her eyes growing a little heavier as she lies there, half-listening to Van and half-absorbed in her own mind. At some point during her third book, Van shifts and lies down next to her, words slowing sleepily. She keeps reading—much slower now, having moved on to a book she doesn't have memorized—but Shauna can hear the way the occasional yawn punctuates her ramble and she knows Van's getting a little fed up with how hard she's trying not to mess up the words.

"Why don't you tell me your own story, bub?" She cuts in softly without opening her eyes. Van shifts and there's the sound of books being dropped unceremoniously onto the floor.

"Don't know any," she whispers guiltily. It makes Shauna smile again and she feels the knot in her chest loosen a little more.

"Yes you do," she replies, pleased with the way her voice is as playful as she'd be intending and not scolding like it had unintentionally sounded earlier that day when she commented on Akilah's drawing of an inguana. "You make them up all the time."

"I don't," Van repeats, sounding stressed as she wiggles a little. Shauna hushes her.

"Okay, that's okay."

She kind of wants to keep hearing Van talk, because it was strangely soothing and meant that she didn't have to think so hard about the memories edging at the corners of her mind.

"Can I hear your tiger poem? How much of it do you know?"

"Okay!" Van agrees happily. She starts whispering to herself, practicing what she's going to say before her voice gets a little stronger and she starts reciting lines from a children's poem Shauna had discovered a while back.

Some of the lines are missing words and she skips one every now and then, but every time she makes a misstep, Van circles back to the beginning and starts again.

At some point, her voice starts to fade away as Shauna slips into sleep, echoing out as she goes.

...

She wakes slowly to a hand on her shoulder and the near-instant realization that she's not gasping for air. She blinks hard, wracking her brain before she opens her eyes and comes to the conclusion that, for the first time in days, she's slept without dreaming.

"Shauna," Tai's voice floats down to her and she cracks her eyes open.

Tai is sitting at the edge of her bed, just barely on the mattress as she reaches over Van to shake Shauna gently. Van had, at some point, followed Shauna into sleep and is clutching her teddy once more, curled into a tight ball as she dozes.

"What time is it?" Shauna asks, suddenly realizing that Tai really is sitting there and she's still in her work clothes and hadn't Van come into her room in the afternoon?

"I came home early," Tai's quick to respond. "I'd guess you've only been sleeping an hour or two."

Shauna huffs half-heartedly, dropping back against her pillows. The motion jostles Van, who makes a small noise.

"You couldn't have let me get my beauty sleep?" She's only half-joking. She kind of wants to go back to sleep right now.

"You can do whatever you want," Tai hums. "But this one needs to wake up or she won't sleep tonight."

She gives Van a little shake and gets a groan in response.

"You weren't afraid to poke the bear?" Shauna asks, hiding her real question being a joke. Tai gives her a look.

"Should I have been?"

"Everyone else would be," she grumbles. The knot in her chest hasn't fully disappeared, loosened as it is, and there's still a bit of wrongness simmering in her stomach. Tai shrugs.

"I'm not everyone else," she replies, trying to ease Nathaniel Dino out of Van's arms. "And besides, the only thing anyone said about you when I got home was that you were taking a break in your room."

"Not that I've been terrorizing the house all day with my wrath?"

"Shauna," Tai scolds. She manages to get Van's teddy out of her arms and the redhead starts to wake up fully, pushing herself up blearily as she searches for it. Tai leans around her to look Shauna in the eyes. "Be nice to yourself. Or I'll make you listen to me read this book."

She holds up one of the books Van had originally brought it, one of the ones about feelings and dealing with them that Shauna truthfully avoids when she can.

"Yeah, whatever." It doesn't come out nearly as sardonic as she'd meant it and Tai smiles warmly. Van's fully awake now, leaning against Tai's shoulder as she watches the two talk. She holds out her teddy to Shauna again, who shakes her head fondly.

"All yours, tiger. Thanks for letting me borrow him," she says.

"We might have to start putting him out on loan," Tai teases, poking Van lightly in the side. She giggles, but her expression goes a little worried regardless, pulling the teddy back towards her protectively. "I'm joking, buddy."

She looks back up at Shauna, expression even.

"You coming downstairs?"

Tai's good at pushing her without making Shauna feel suffocated. She lets out a long breath before nodding slowly.

"I could use some water," she replies carefully.

"Can I have juice?" Van chirps. She directs the question at Shauna, who shrugs and points at Tai.

"Sneaky," Tai chides, mussing Van's hear. "Yeah, you can. Take these books back to the room, first, please. Meet us on the stairs."

As Van hurries off with an armful of books, Tai stands, holding a hand out to Shauna, who brushes her off. Now standing, she ducks her head, a silent show of thanks.

"So why are you home so early, anyhow?"

Tai's expression breaks into one of unbridled joy and she pushes her sleeves up, shaking her head.

"Oh boy, have I got a story for you."

Edit: Re-reading this, I'm realizing that I think I subconsciously pulled from a few of @cryingatwindermerepeaks' recent posts with some of this, so credit where credit is due !

[ask-outside-stars]

you know bilingual people usually when they insult accidentally they do it in their native lenguaje,like when you hit your lil finger toes and you scream a COÑ-….,or when you are really angry or happy,so my question is, does will do that too? B’cause he can speak eucladian and English (and I don’t know what more), btw I wish you are having a good day/night ^_^

Part of the downsides of the Mystery Shack being as old as it was meant that every so often it would need repairs. Usually that was where Soos would come in, but for bigger jobs that required more hands, Will was more than happy to help out his favorite (adult) nephew.

After a particularly nasty summer storm had blown through, a good portion of the roof tiles had been torn away by the harsh winds, necessitating the purchase of an entire palette's worth of fresh tiles. Soos handled the re-tiling of the roof, while Will handled miscellaneous cleanup around the yard and making sure that Soos didn't topple off the roof. Once it was done and repairs were made, the two of them piled the old janky tiles and various wood debris on top of the palette to carry to Soos's truck whereupon it would be transported to the dump for disposal.

"Okay, you grab that end, I'll grab this one," Soos said.

"Can do, captain."

On the count of three, they lifted the palette and began the short, awkward waddle to the truck. Overloaded as it was, the palette began to splinter and crack and Soos only had a moment to shout an aborted cry of Will's name before the palette snapped in two and dropped the old roof tiles directly atop Will's feet, specifically his left one.

Will immediately yanked his foot free, hopping around on his injured one and shouting a string of what Soos could only describe as "verbal interpretations of colors and shapes". How Will even managed to make those noises was nothing short of a mystery to Soos, who immediately rushed to Will's side and helped sit him down on the bed of the pickup truck.

"Oh dood! I'm so sorry, Mx. Pines! Is your foot broken?"

Will hissed in pain as he worked his shoe off. "No, no, I'm fine. Just bruised to high hell. Agh..."

When he popped his shoe off, he sighed in relief and gave a wiggle of his toes to test their range of movement. Sure enough, the top of his foot was already blooming a faint purple and Soos winced in sympathy. "I'll, uh, get you some ice."

"That would be great, thanks."

Soos hurried off and returned just as quick with a little plastic baggie filled with ice from the freezer that he handed off to Will who accepted it gratefully. Will winced but quickly dissolved to a pleased sort of humming when he placed the makeshift ice pack over his injured foot. The two of them sat there together for a moment before Soos, desperate to break the tension, asked, "So... what was that noise you were making earlier? The one that sounded like..."

He tried to imitate the noises that had come out of Will's mouth, but his inflection was wobbly and pitched too low, almost sounding like an owl hooting from deep within a bowl of oatmeal. Will laughed, grateful for the distraction from his throbbing foot. "I was cussing. In Euclydian. You know, like how you humans stub your toe."

"That was Euclydian?" gasped Soos in no small amount of nearly childlike wonder.

Will nodded.

"Yep. Sure was. I can teach you, if you want. It'll be good to have someone else other than me and Ford know it."

"Aw, dood, that sounds awesome! Thanks, Mx. Pines!"

"Don't mention it. Though, ah, if you could do me another favor?"

"Anything. You name it."

"Help me hobble over to the house? Think I'm gonna put my foot up for the rest of the day."

"Sure thing, Mx. Pines."

Soos let Will loop his arm over his shoulders and the two of them began shuffling back to the shack, Will already mentally preparing some Euclydian language lesson plans.

[drabbles-mc]

It'll Get Done (Pt. 2)

Richie Jerimovich & F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto & F!Reader

Chapter Index

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, canon-typical vibes

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: My writer's block has been brutal lately because of lift things, which is deeply unfortunate because I wanted to NaNo this month. But! I did write this for these guys. I just want to put them in rooms and let them talk to each other forever.

The Bear Taglist: @garbinge @withmyteeth @narcolini @hausofmamadas @ashlingnarcos @darqchilddaydreamz @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, plesae let me know!)

Richie didn’t make it back before the end of the day. You only noticed because the kitchen was a little quieter. Not quiet, of course, but quieter. There was one less person that Carmy was yelling at and arguing with. It was amazing how much it cut down on the noise level.

Every now and then as Carmy raced back and forth between the front and the back of the house, you could feel him lingering behind you. The kid exuded stress in a way that you didn’t know was possible. You understood why, because most people if they were thrown into his position would’ve jumped off the sinking ship rather than trying to scoop the water out with a soup ladle, but sometimes you still felt like you should strap him to the chair in the office and force-feed him some of Richie’s Xanax.

You empathized with him. Or you empathized with him at least more than Richie did, which was a low bar these days. But despite the compassion you were dredging up to give him, there were still plenty of times when you felt him standing behind him and all you wanted to do was spin back around to him and ask him what his fucking deal was. It was easier to refrain from doing that on days when Richie was there because he would say it for you.

Carmy came all but skidding back through the kitchen towards the register, going back and forth between muttering and shouting, “Behind,” as he made his way through.

“Calm down, Jeff,” Tina said with a laugh as she went to take her pot off the stove.

You felt your jaw clench on Carmy’s behalf. Tina was knowledgeable about a lot of things and one of those things was, most definitely, how to get under Carmy’s skin. It wasn’t a difficult code to crack but there were so few people in the world who could do it with such expert precision. Her and Richie were two peas in a pod that way.

“It’d be easier for me to calm down, Tina,” Carmy snapped as he kept walking, “if we were able to pay our goddamn vendors!”

She was shaking her head at him—you caught it out of the corner of your eye. But you also noticed that she didn’t say anything more about it. Content to go back and lie in wait for something else to pop up that she could nettle him about. The end of the day might’ve been approaching quickly but you had the feeling in the pit of your stomach that she would be able to find something else before she clocked out without having to work too hard.

When Carmy came back into the kitchen a little while later, he was walking at a much slower pace than he had been before. You were sure that some of that had to do with the fact that the last of the customers had left, and presumably whatever vendor that had showed up looking for money had also left.

He looked on as everyone slowly but surely worked through their cleanup processes. He wasn’t looking at you, but you still asked him, “All good?”

His head snapped in your direction. “What?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out of you. It wasn’t funny per se, but if you didn’t laugh about it you’d end up crying. “What can I help you with, Carmen?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. N-nothing. No one can help me with,” he let out a huff, raking his hands through his hair, “fuckin’ anything.”

“Little dramatic,” you replied honestly, sarcastic but kind, “but alright.”

It got a weak chuckle out of him. “You know what the fuck was going on in Mikey’s head with all that shit?” he asked as he gestured to the office.

You didn’t have to turn and look where he was pointing to know how bad the mess was. You’d seen it while Mikey was making the mess. You’d been seeing it as Carmy made almost no headway in cleaning any of it up. You didn’t blame him for that. If you’d been in his position, you wouldn’t have any idea where to start either.

“Thank fuckin’ god no,” you finally answered him.

He pressed his lips into a thin line for a second as he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah that seems to be…yeah.”

“You should—”

“You can head out, Chef,” Carmy cut you off, and you didn’t know if he even realized that he’d done it. “I’ll finish cleaning up.”

You shook your head. “I can clean up my shit.”

He motioned for you to leave. “It’s fine. I got it.”

“Carm…”

“Seriously,” he reiterated. “Go.”

You looked at him for a moment, and that’s when you could see it in his eyes, the silent plea to just let him have some time to himself. You knew that feeling—it was the whole reason you’d shown up as early as you had that morning in the first place anyway. You knew better than to tell him that he should leave. He wasn’t going to and all it was going to do was turn into an argument. You didn’t need another one of those.

“Fine,” you said with a nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You ditched your apron and switched back into your casual shoes, stuffing everything else into your locker while you grabbed your bag and your jacket. Neither you nor Carmy spared each other another goodbye, or any other words in general as you headed out.

There was no point in getting your car keys out of your bag, not when the bar you went to with Richie all the time was within walking distance. The couple blocks felt way longer when it was cold out, but it wasn’t that bad yet.

The bartender recognized you when you walked in, giving you a smile and a nod as he moved to start pulling your drink together before you even sat down. He waited for you to get situated before asking, “Flying solo tonight?”

You laughed as you pulled your phone out of your bag. “That’s an excellent question. Let me call—” The rest of the sentence died on your tongue when the door to the bar flung open and Richie strode through. You instantly let it drop right back into your bag, eyes fixed on Richie even though you were talking to the bartender. “I’m not flying solo tonight, no.”

“Can’t believe you came over here without me!” Richie said as he walked over to you.

“Yeah, well,” you looked up at him from the stool you were sitting on as he clapped his hands down on your shoulders, “least I ordered you a drink.”

He laughed, leaning more onto you. His tone shifted completely as he spoke. “Have I ever told you that I love you?”

You rolled your eyes. “You can always tell me again.”

He kissed the side of your head. “I love you.”

“Damn right,” you said with a nod as Richie plopped down on the seat next to you. You waited until he was comfortable in his seat, leaning forward with his arms braced against the edge of the bar with his breathing evened out, before you tried to have anything resembling a real conversation. “Where the hell did you go all day?”

“What do you mean?”

“You expect me to believe that it was guys and places all day?” You were only bringing it up because, much to Carmy’s dismay, Richie usually was at the restaurant all day every day the place was open. He’d pop in and out briefly for whatever errands he assigned himself, but other than that he was present and accounted for. Being gone all day was noticeable, at least to you if no one else.

It was written all over his face that he was thinking about not elaborating. You saw the shifts in his expression as he tried to come up with a joke, or a lie, or anything besides getting into the reality of it all. But then when he looked you in the eyes again, all he could do was be honest with you. “Tiff called. Had to go pick Eva up from school.”

You nodded. “Got it.” You paused. “Wanna talk about it or—”

“No, no,” he laughed, shifting back into his usual demeanor. “We’re not doing that. You don’t get to do that.”

You let out a confused laugh. “I don’t get to do what?”

“You don’t get to try and use Eva to get out of telling me what the fuck your dumbass boyfriend did!” He paused as the bartender set both your drinks down, taking a moment to thank him before shifting his attention right back to you. “You first.”

You huffed, wishing that you could get out of it again. Even with things that were much lower-stakes, there was only so long that you could dodge Richie and his endless line of questions. You took a long sip of your drink as you tried to figure out what you wanted to say, how you wanted to try and say it. There was no way that you could tell the story that would end with him being anything but pissed off about the entire situation. You couldn’t blame him for that, either. After all, you were still pretty pissed off about it yourself.

“It’s nothing new,” you said, a cop-out you knew that he wasn’t going to accept.

He shook his head, looking down at the glass in his hands before looking at you again. “Tell me the old news, then.”

“I’m done being angry about it, Richie.”

“I’m not,” he replied with no hesitation.

It got you to laugh, at least. “That’s because you’re never done being angry about anything.”

He waited for you to look at him. “You’re really not gonna tell me what he did?” He paused, and when you didn’t say anything, he added on, “That bad?”

You shook your head, drumming your fingers on the outside of your glass. “That pointless.”

“Ah,” he waved you off with that same smirk you’d seen from him so often over the years, “another drink or two and I won’t be able to get you to stop talking shit about him.” He missed the look on your face as he looked back down at his drink and shook his head. “Fuckin’ jagoff.”

You chuckled, nodding. “Yeah—that we can agree on at least.”

“Speaking of which,” he gestured towards the door of the bar, “how was the fuckin’ executive toddler chef the rest of the day?”

You smiled, rolling your eyes. “An absolute gem once you walked out the door.”

For a split second you could see it on his face that he almost believed you. Then he smartened up and gave you a playful bump against your shoulder with his own. “Fuck you.”

[songoftrillium]

Werewolf: the Essentials Project Update 12/1/2024

Hello, Kinfolks! So, where is book 1?

In the words of an old teacher: "Vinegar is fine, but wine takes time." If you take something sweet and let it ferment, you'll get a tasty drink sooner or later, but there are many steps between juice and wine, requiring checks and cleanup and careful measuring. Vinegar on the other hand, put anything sweet in any jar and it'll be vinegar in a couple days without trying. It's easy to make something sour, but making something of lasting value takes effort.

In short, the book is not ready yet. I'm still not happy with what we have and it needs a little more work done, both in terms of writing and layout. Some pieces we're waiting for and life just got in the way of some deadlines. Others need some rewrites to capture the pathos right. Others just need laying out and we haven't gotten to them yet.

So, what's our road map for release look like?

Copy editing and layout

In-Line writing

Annotation

Indexing

Preflight

Let's break this down:

Copy Editing and Layout

The copy edit is where you have the written portions of a document and lay it out in a book. This becomes a game of word economy on the page, and sacrifices (and embellishments) have to be written to make things all fit in their sidebars and sections in a manner that is visually satisfying and doesn't waste space. My design ethos is that nobody wants to pay for white paper and double spacing. This isn't a college essay after all.

Where the document template we've been using to write can hold about 900 words per page, the book is tidy enough to hold about 1300 words per page, taking all the preplanned formatting in the master docs largely out the window by the time it hits the page. While we can (and do) perform some formatting magic to flex this number a bit and add graphics to fill out dead page space, that'd require we add and format images for every single page, which I refuse to do. We'd be looking at hundreds of images in the book. While there is some degree of using graphics to fill in dead space, when it's deliberately padded this way on every page, it stands out in an unpleasant way.

In-line Writing

On the note of not using too many images to fill in dead space, I'm doing some writing while doing layout, and by some, I mean a lot. On average I'm adding an extra 100 words per page as I go along. As a perfectionist I'm trying not to make the words empty either, so of what writing I am doing, it's adding value to the book on the whole. While 100 words per page doesn't sound like a lot, in the scale of 250-300 pages I am effectively writing a novel in addition to what's already written. Getting closer to the holidays, people are spending more time with their loved ones and nearly all this writing is being handled myself.

Annotation

This is the biggest one. Annotation involves not just making endnotes referring people to other books but also cross-referencing sections inside the book. If someone sees the word "Rekindling" in the book and clicks it, they can be instantly taken to the main section of the book written on the subject. This elevated the final product to one that is not just informative but also useful at the tabletop for quick lookups.

These cross references have to be added for every instance of that kind of referencing, and that takes time. That same treatment comes for both things being indexed for the back of the book, as well as formatting for the table of contents. This is all well and good, but also, cross referencing cannot happen until all the book sections are added, so there will be additional time needed even after I'm done with the layout. We have our citations ready thankfully, we just need those sections down.

Indexing

Which brings me to indexing, another task that largely needs to happen after all book sections are added and laid out. In order for an index to be effective you don't just need to flag words to add, but you need to create topics and subtopics, and designated white indexed topics are written more comprehensively than others. Like cross referencing, the ability to rapidly find the core articles being indexed means having those sections defined. If you index things without the right topics to place them under you're just doubling the work needing to get done.

Preflight

This one's gonna hurt, and tbh is a massive unknown for how long it'll take to pass. Preflight is a term used by desktop publishing software that consists of a system of checks and error reporting to ensure the book doesn't contain formatting errors before rendering it to its final document. This encompasses word table flow, graphics resolution, and color grading. This is the final check stage, and if we do not pass it, the software may not render the book correctly (or may not render it at all.) WtE as a series is being produced in what I'm calling a "Print-Ready" state. This means the final document is being made at high resolution, in a CMYK color profile, as though it will be printed as a book. To be clear, we are not planning to print hard copies at this time (Paradox Interactive's community content guidelines do not allow printed fan material at the time of this writing.) What this does offer, however, is future-proofing. Should the opportunity present for the series to be printed, it can happen without any ceremony. This will also accommodate higher resolution screens in the future, and we can release a higher dpi edition in ten years.

That said, however, passing preflight is a Sisyphean task, where solving one prerequisite may unsurface others. Converting graphics in RGB over to CMYK is also no one-click operation without things coming out a lot duller in appearance. While it's not hard to do all the proper conversions, it's tedious, and the more images added to the pile, the more time spent converting things manually.

Text being pushed behind the borders of a table is easy to miss and may lead to missing book passages. It's an easy mistake to make, and indeed several older edition books have passages missing for this exact reason. Then, when you bring it to wrap into the next table, it may wreck formatting for the rest of the chapter and need further corrections.

I'll be the one to say giving a fixed release date was a mistake, and it's why I'm not giving a hard release date on final release. I thrive on deadlines, but a deadline on final delivery is a dangerous gamble. I can say confidently we're past the worst of it and that "Soon" truly means "Soon."

The good news is that we're done with writing, but the book isn't ready yet. So, when is it coming out? I'm not sure. I'm at a point where once we're past preflight, I intend to immediately release it, and that's kind of where we're at. I'll have a future update to announce once we're in preflight. When we hit that stage, it could be a matter of a few days or hours until release.

Vinegar is fine, but wine takes time.

In the meantime, enjoy our comic, Cracking the Bone, and we'll see you soon~!

[supertayaa]

harley saywer nsfw alphabet (~4k words)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Don't expect anything from the man. The most he can do is flop down by your side uncerimoniously, panting a few times before tossing the blanket over the both of you to fall asleep. Unless you have enough energy to clean yourself up, you're falling asleep with sticky thighs and sweat-sheened skin.

If you've known him long enough, and you respect his insignificance towards you (by this, I mean, if you don't get butthurt about him not exactly caring about you all too much) and humanity, he's nice enough to pop into the bathroom to wet a cloth, wiping down the both of you. But the cloth is tossed into the laundry basket just as quickly, and his cold frame is on his side of the bed, leaving you to fall asleep on your own. That's how it is even if you don't get fucked to sleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his hands. Partly, because they're long and lanky, just like the rest of his body, and the other half because of what he can do with them. His fingers are cold and calculated, his movements so precise - like he always knows what he's going to do next. He does his work with his hands. He preforms so many surgeries with his hands, he makes you squirm and writhe with those hands. He knows that you know nobody can do what he does.

As for you.. He can guess he likes your face. He doesn't typically prefer anything significant about you in sex, he sees everything about you in the same light. Nothing is more important than another part. But your face.. He learns so much about it every day. As time moves on, he grows bored of it, but in the first few months or years, he's always watching you. Calculating you. Your expressions, what certain movements of your face mean. The way your lips grow thin when you're confused, or the way they fall open when you're too confused. The way your nostrils flare to push out more air from them when you're angry. The way your brows furrow and meet in the middle when you're concentrated... Or the way your eyes roll back in the most lewd way when he hits right into the spot you need it most.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He doesn't like to cum inside. For the reasons being; he cannot risk you getting pregnant. Realistically, he'd probably leave if he did end up knocking you up, and for the fact that he despises the morning cleanup. He'd rather cum on your stomach, ass, chest, just somewhere you or him can wipe it down and he doesn't have to deal with stained sheets. Because he knows you'll let it drip out of yourself. And, even if you beg for him to just "use a condom", he'll just quirk a brow. But under that unfaltering demeanor, he's actually just paranoid of it breaking.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

It isn't really something he'd be game to try. But, if you're a bit of a horndog and are constantly begging for sexual attention, he'll find himself dreaming of you on top of him in his sleep, or the subtle thought passes his brain as he's brushing his teeth or showering. He'd never bring it up to you, ask for it, or even question your stances on somno, as he can't give away the fact that he's technically been fantasizing about you, so it'll be a secret he drags to the grave with him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He doesn't really have experience with women, men, anybody. He was the nerd growing up, with too-good grades. The kid that was only really useful for homework answers. Whatever. He didn't have time for getting laid anyway, he was focused on other things. But, despite that, he has enough common sense. He's a PhD in neuroscience, he knows enough about the female and male body to know what feels good, what spots are sensitive and where they're located. Besides, if you tell him what feels good or how you'd like it, he'll only look at you from above his glasses, quirk a brow, then go right back to what he was doing (You secretly notice that he does what you asked for the next time you fuck, but, you know he'll stop if you bring it up). You should enjoy what he's offered to you, anyway, because it's not like he would've really done this on his own will.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Anything that lets him take the lead. Cowboy, missionary, doggy, you laying on the bed and him standing behind you. He doesn't care about seeing your face, being able to squeeze your tits, or anything.. Romantic. He just likes anything that lets him fuck you without you getting in the way or being in a position where you can (try) to take control.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

No. Just no. Don't even try.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sawyer either keeps shaved, or he just hardly grows hair down there. Or in any places. Maybe it's his malnutrition. Yes, he eats, but he hardly intakes enough protein that he should be. He's too busy working to really bother with stupid things like maintaining his body weight, or other things like that. But, seriously, you can't figure out if he's just a weirdly body hair-less man, or if he's very good at shaving every inch of his body.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

No.. No, not really. He hardly shows intimacy as it is, it just isn't an emotion, or feeling, that he's really capable of. His mouth is busy spewing out silly facts or notes he remembers, like how one of his most recent experiments is holding up. Actually, sex with him probably isn't intimate at all. Unless he's tired. Sleepy sex with him is just perfect. He's too tired to actually talk, and with the room being so quiet, you can finally hear a few tiny huffs come from his nose as he works himself into you from behind.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I doubt the man has ever even thought about masturbating. He has better uses for his own hands, like cutting children open and transferring their insides to another body. Hell, getting horny is rare for him as is.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sawyer's never really taken the time to indulge in figuring out what does and doesn't turn him on. It hardly changes when the two of you get together, either. But as the two of you grow more sexually intimate (which takes a god forsakenly long time), he finds a few things he enjoys more than others.

Loves choking you. He knows his hands are freezing, and his fingers are long, perfect for wrapping tightly around your throat. He's a sucker for fingering you, edging you in the meantime. Curling his long, dull fingers in all the right places, watching you shudder and squirm. You can squirm all you want, he won't stop you, just make sure you don't cum until the command is barked out.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He refuses to have sex anywhere but in the bedroom. You won't be getting his work or home office dirty, not his sterile lab, not his couch, not his kitchen counters or table, not his bathroom sink (I would say shower sex is on the table - but he wouldn't let you shower with him anyway). Sex is meant for the bedroom - it'll stay in the bedroom. Sheets are easily cleanable. The blankets and pillows can be tossed off the bed before sex even starts and stay clean. The couch is impossible to clean without an exasperatingly expensive steam cleaner (from what he tells you), he needs his laboratory to stay sterile, he cooks dinner on that counter and table, and his bathroom is a clean sterile space that should stay that way. Sawyer promises you over and over, he is not a germophobe. Why would you think that??

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Sawyer will absolutely grovel if you seriously take the time to admire his work. Praises of how smart and intelligent he is, murmuring under your breath while you watch his newest experiment simply live in it's space. He adores having you as company when he's working (although most of the time he's having you do his side work for him, like writing down whatever he says to send reports to Ritterman, stopping by other employees' offices to ask for paperwork, delivering papers, etc), as long as you stay out of his way. Just sit there, look pretty, and admire from afar. He loves it.

And, believe me, if you make sure he has a good, ego bristled day at work, you'll have a good night, too. Oh, you wanted it faster? Harder? Sure. But only because its an exchange for how obedient you were in his lab today.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Theres way too many things he would never let you do, or never do in general. Sex in his laboratory? No. But that's to be expected, as he needs the space to be as sterile as possible - but sex in his office or anywhere at work is off limits anyways. Letting you take control? No. Threesomes? No. Giving you oral? No. Any sort of.. Lovesick, sappy romance? No. Whether it be he takes you to dinner and the two of you never say a word (even if you both sit at different tables...), or if it's sitting on the couch and watching a movie with you - it's a no. He doesn't have the time (Secretly, he does have a movie he wants to watch, but the thought of watching it with you is.. Off. It's not a bad or inappropriate movie or anything, he just likes the alone time. Or, that's what he tells himself).

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Will never give oral. He's more than accepting to recieve it from you, but just the thought of swallowing any sort of sperm from you, or drinking up any of your arousal fluids is just.. Sickening to him. He doesn't want it to taste bad (although he knows you're most likely more than sanitary and are probably good at your hygiene), or anything of the like. It's just too big of a risk.

Oh, but you want to give him a blowjob? Don't make him laugh. Since when did he ever recieve the honor? Of course, his dress pants are pooling around his ankles in seconds, his freezing cold, skinny fingers digging in your hair to shove you down onto him with ease. He'll never say it, but the feeling of your tongue on his tip is absolutely lovely.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Sawyer typically likes to go at a moderate to fast pace. Fast enough to slowly get you to an orgasm after ~40-50 minutes, maybe less time if you haven't had sex in a while, but slow enough to not be way too much. Just a perfect medium. Of course, he'll speed up as he gets closer and feels you tightening - but it's usually the same pace with him. He can't go too fast now, or else he won't be able to talk to you about his newest experiment!

Unless he's tired. As previously stated, sleepy sex is nothing less than perfect. He typically spoons you - which by god - feels amazing. He never does it when he's actually sleeping, so feeling the man so cradled against you is everything you can dream for. Slow, yet perfectly hit thrusts, just barely rubbing you against your g-spot/prostate. Not ramming into it, but just enough to get you to drool and sleepily murmur out your moans into the pillow. And, for once... Sleepy sex with him is like a break from all the talking he does while you two actually fuck.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He, surprisingly, doesn't exactly prefer them. He likes to take his time with an orgasm, especially with yours. Which was.. Weirdly, a surprise with you. You expected him to prefer a quickie over anything since he already expresses his disinterest in having sex with you 95% of the time - but when you brought it up, he looked at you like you had just slapped him. Confused, almost irritated.

And, he never actually said it to clarify why he was confused by your question, but drawn out orgasms, to him, are amazing. Maybe not to the point of downright edging (himself, he loves to edge you), but just getting to the buildup over an hour or so of sex with you is... Seriously, the best way to end a night.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

It really depends. Risking public sex, risking being heard, risking getting anything except the bed dirty, risking pregnancy, is all off the table. He doesn't want babies running around and wasting his time, nor does he want to risk getting fired or ruining his perfect, sterile environment.

...Sure. If you complain about something new you wish to try enough for it to get on his nerves, he'll comply, but only to get you to shut your mouth. That's the only true "risk" he'd ever do.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Sawyer is a 'one and done' kind of man. He doesn't like to preoccupy his much needed time with lackluster things like sex, and besides, he knows he does it good enough that one round leaves you tired. He can last longer, and he supposes he can go an extra one or two rounds if he's off work the next day, but he rarely goes over more than one.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

It takes an unfathomably long time for Sawyer to consider toys. That being said, you don't bring it up for a while considering the man's temper, and how much he already seems displeased with simple sex. But he never considers it until you finally ask.

He seems intrigued.. But only for one thing in paticular. Remote-controlled vibrators (we'll pretend they existed back in 1990). Oh, really, you just offered him a toy he can pleasure you with without even having to do anything?? Well, aren't you a saint. He's probably sat in his office in the house, working, just nextdoor to where he's purposefully left you curled up under the sheets with the toy under your pants, while he hears you squeak and squeal through thin walls as he remembers to toy with the remote every now and then. He has so much fun using it for the first time - leaving the bedroom door open to better gague how you react to certain buttons he presses. It's like he's experimenting on you. And he loves it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sex with him overall is a tease in itself. He just won't stop fucking talking. Seriously. He'll be fucking you silly, and you're drooling all over the pillows, as he rambles about Leith (whom you've gagued Harley says the name of wrong on purpose, out of hatred) and his "horrible leadership skills", Greyber's affection for the children in playcare making her small minded and overly sensitive. How much he hates Mr. Ritterman and his excessive, over-the-top accent. He just doesn't know when to stop ranting about work problems. It isn't like he's doing it on purpose. Having sex with you feels like a chore for him. So he takes the time to complain about his day to keep him occupied while he ignores your cock-drunk state.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The most you'll really be getting from Harley is a few croaked out gasps, or a few groans when he finally finishes or first bottoms out inside of you. Most of his time thrusting is spent rambling to you, so his throat is far too occupied for him to be making any noise.

But.. If you tighten around him as he cums inside (which he'll only allow to happen if you've gone through hysterectomy, oophorectomy or anything of the sort), or just manage to squirt a bit when you finally release, it manages to pull a shuddered moan from his throat.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He thinks your pitiful attempts at turning him on or trying to figure out his interests are all too amusing. He finds himself recalling the time you dressed up in lingerie for him. Sure, it looked... Nice, on you. Whether you're male or female, he thought the colour you chose suited. But when you awkwardly shifted side to side, confused on why he didn't pounce on you, he couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle, before leading you to the bed for a long lecture of how he felt about the action as he boredly pounded you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Harley doesn't have anything too exciting. You could consider it a comfortable size, a bit on the skinnier size. A solid 6 inches, maybe 3½ in girth? You've never bothered to measure, nor has he. But it's comfortable. If he's fucking you, it's just perfect enough to pleasure you. Cockwarming, although it's extremely uncommon, he isn't too big to be poking anywhere uncomfortable. Just perfect.

And, as previously mentioned, he doesn't have the most body hair, so just simple lower stomach pubes, softly trailing up his stomach into an insignificant happy trail. No other hair down there as far as you know, though.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

As previously stated, Harley isn't typically one to start the intimacy. He hardly feels sexual feelings at all - so his sex drive is probably six feet under.

As the years go by in your relationship, he'd probably realize how much of a stress reliever sex is, and he'd most likely come to you after a very long month of work and lack of sex to just relieve some tension. He'll never say it out loud, nor do I think he'd ever truly admit it, but finally planting his cum all over your back after an extra long week makes his knees turn into jelly.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

So quick. Almost too quick. After pulling out and downright ignoring your needs (he might use the excuse that he's too tired to help if he's feeling bratty enough), he simply flops to the side, pulls the blanket over himself and dozes off in what seems like seconds. Going to bed after draining himself of a thick load, mind cleared and thoughts thoroughly spewed out, it gets him to sleep so easily. And Sawyer hardly does that. So.. Seriously, even if you don't know it - having sex with you is deeply appreciated.

As time moves on, you slowly find that Sawyer inches closer every single night. When he first let you into his home (almost a year into the relationship), and you two slept together for the first time (which takes another few months), he's practically falling off the complete opposite side of the bed. He'd stare at you all night until you finally actually fall unconcious. But he doesn't do that anymore.

He's finally on a normal spot of his own side of the bed. But as weeks turn to months - and months into years.. He gets closer every month or so. As if he's.. Warming up to you. At some point, the most he does is rest a hand over your heart in his sleep. It's an unconcious touch, and he always pulls it away during his stirring wake, but the subtle action makes your heart swell and throb. Because whether you and him know it or not, he really does love you.

side posted on a03

[ssfluff]

I wrote a short story about a FNaF Security Breach AU, you can read it under this!

Sleepy Kid (FNaF SB AU)

*Booting up...*

*Entering SAFE MODE*

Uuuh, that was quite the glitch.

Where am I?

...

I seem to be in Rockstar Row.

It seems I just got out of my room.

Hmm.

…

Oh! I remember!

I was hiding Gregory from Vanessa!

We must go to the main entrance before the doors close.

First, we must go through the Utility Tunnels.

...

I feel Gregory is broken.

I'll take him to first aid services.

Wait!

That's Officer Vanessa!

Quickly, get out, Gregory!

Fine! Stay quiet inside my chest then.

...

At least she let us go.

Now, we must get to the entrance!

My battery!

My battery is running out!

Where's the recharge station?

Here!

You should get out, Gregory.

Alright. I just hope you don't get electrocuted.

That'd be devastating.

...

Great! Now for the entrance!

Oh. Oh no. They're closing.

The doors are closing!

We must hurry!

...

And they're closed.

I'm sorry Gregory. They won't open until 6 AM.

We must keep moving. We can't let her find you.

But I won't be able to enter through security doors. You have to get the security badges.

You don't want to?

Hm.

I guess you can keep sleeping in my stomach.

At least you won't be found while you're asleep here.

Where should we go...

The Daycare?

I suppose that could work.

...

Wait, there were complaints about how the "Moon" side of the Daycare Attendant scared kids.

You might not like it.

Or worse, it might wake you up and you might scream.

We don't want that.

I need to appear normal.

I'll resume my security activities.

There's Chica.

Act normal. Act casual.

...

"No, I haven't seen the kid that Officer Vanessa is searching for."

"We'll keep looking for him!"

Liquid? What liquid am I dripping off?

"This is just oil. I'll get cleaned up in Parts and Service anyways."

"See you!"

There's nothing to worry about.

Why was Chica acting like that?

This is just an oil leak.

I had a glitch earlier, probably something broke off in my chest.

I just hope Gregory won't inhale the oil.

I'm sure he's fine.

I'd hear him choking if he inhaled the oil.

In any case, I'll go to Parts and Service later.

I need to keep Gregory hidden until the doors open.

...

Oh. Officer Vanessa.

...

"What trail are you talking about? It's just oil."

"No, we need to find Gregory before I go to Parts and Service."

"Okay, we'll go."

...

My elevator is out of order.

We should ask someone else so we can use their elevator.

Ah, there's Roxy.

...

No, she hasn't seen Gregory. Great!

"Can we use the elevator in your room? We're going to Parts and Service."

...

"What? I won't stain your floor."

...

"Okay, we'll be quick. See you."

...

Officer Vannesa must really care about this kid.

She has a really concerned expression.

I'm glad that she's worrying so much about his well being.

...

Wait!

If Vanessa opens up my chest cavity, she'll see Gregory!

I must hide him before that!

"Officer Vanessa, I have low battery, I should recharge before going to Parts and Service."

"There's a recharge station near the door, it'll be quick."

"Thank you!"

...

Okay Gregory, wake up now.

Come on, you need to get up and hide here.

...

I'll just put you here myself.

...

Okay, you should be safe here.

Don't make a sound.

I'll be back in a moment.

Just stay asleep like that.

...

It's just a quick cleanup.

It'll be over soon.

...

"What's wrong?"

"Blood? This is oil."

"I didn't do anything."

"I was simply searching for the kid. Nothing more."

"What trail?"

"Vanessa! Do not leave me like this!"

...

Oh no.

She found Gregory.

And I'm sure he woke up from hearing her scream like that.

...

"What?"

"Vanessa? What are you doing?"

"No, no! Don't deactivate me!"

"We need to keep searching for Gregory!"

"Vanessa!"

...

"Do any of you know where Freddy could be?"

"I don't know, maybe he got lost searching for that little guy."

"I doubt it, he would have come back eventually."

"But what if something happened?"

"Hah! Freddy wouldn't get himself into dangerous situations like that."

"Good point, but still. It's odd that he's not here yet."

"Oh! Officer Vanessa! Any news on Freddy?"

...

"Oh, alright!"

"So, what's wrong?"

"Nothing!"

"He's sleeping."

[ramblingandpie]

So there was a post going around that I saw a while ago about making tender roast beef. And, well, since I was planning to make roast beef this weekend anyway... here's my roast beef process.

Put oven rack on lowest slot and pre-heat the oven. If you have 4 hours, set it to 275. If less? 350 is fine.

Put a drizzle of olive oil into the bottom of a Dutch Oven. It'll help with cleanup later.

Wash and chop up a bunch of potatoes, and also chop one onion. Put those into the Dutch oven and mix in some salt, pepper, garlic powder, sage, parsley, and marjoram. Experiment a bit if you want with the combo but that's kinda my base.

Add olive oil to a sautée pan and heat that up. Put in the roast beef, and liberally add the same herbs/salt/pepper/etc.

Move the roast to the Dutch Oven on top of the potatoes. Important! Make sure it's fat side up!! So the fat drips into the stuff!

Next? The deglazing.

Deglazing is basically "add some wine to the skillet at a low temp (so it doesn't bubble) so it picks up all the extra oil, salt, and yumminess." Then, you pour that over the roast beef.

I also add about 1 cup of beef stock, which I make from the "better than boullion" stuff.

That's everything! Put the lid on and slide that into the oven!

Let it cook for a while. How long? I hate to say but it depends. I do usually resort to googling this step for my particular weight of roast, but this was a 5 pound roast at 350 for just over 2 hours. Lower temp? Longer time. Smaller roast? Shorter time.

Always check your temp when you think it's done! I love this meat thermometer that shows different requirements for cooking temps.

When you take the pot out, let it sit for a bit. 15 minutes is good. The meat needs to cool slightly before you cut it. This is called "resting" the meat and I think that's great. Give your beef a little nap.

Then, slice! I have this big knife that's like a chef's knife but serrated. It definitely comes in handy for this step.

Warning! The roast beef WILL be juicy if done right, so you definitely want a cutting board with grooves on it to catch all dat goodness.

This particular beef was fattier than I anticipated. I do sometimes cut the fat off the whole roast before slicing, and put it into a bag in the freezer labeled "future soup" where all my fatty scraps go. Tonight, I didn't. So like... yeah I definitely cut the fat off my slices before I ate. All good. Flavorful.

This beef is also more medium than the thermometer would imply - I left the Dutch Oven closed while it rested so it did end up cooking a bit more, and then like 47 other things were all ready right after I took it out of the Dutch Oven. It happens.

And voila! Tonight's dinner also included roasted asparagus, air-fryer cauliflower, the potatoes from the roasting, crescent rolls, and gravy (made from the roast beef drippings).

All told, it was about 3 hours start to finish, BUT like... I got the beef in the oven around 2:30 and then played with the kids for an hour, and then did some other chores, and got back in the kitchen around 4 to prep the sides and finish the beef. So not bad, overall.

I enjoy cooking and I do a weekly Big Sunday Dinner which is necessary for my mental health. It's definitely taken a bit of a learning curve and there have been some misses along the way but I do think I'm a pretty damn good home chef after doing this for a while.

So yeah there's my roast beef!

[majorasnightmare]

how the hell has Dirge never been arrested before

this cutie has proficiency ANNNNND expertise in Persuasion 🫶 first through Rogue levels as a Bhaalist and then later through the tadpole. Officer look at that face. Does he look guilty to you? No of course not 😤

Being serious, Dirge has always been EXCEPTIONALLY good at his job. Hes incredibly thorough about scene cleanup, and the only times he hasn't been were Bhaal induced Urge episodes as punishment. Those situations were risky, but Dirge was able to skirt by by laying low and limiting his activity afterwards. His 2k killcount makes up the bulk of the Flaming Fist's cold cases. Despite Dirge having some VERY distinctive traits and being a very noticeable 6'5" tiefling, his years as a Bhaalist were conducted with utmost care to ensure he could enact Bhaal's Will regularly with safety.

Post Lobotomy, Dirge is no stranger to scavenging, theft, and what-could-possibly-be-construed-as-murder (IT WAS JUSTIFIED HE CHECKED WITH KARLACH AND WYLL!!!) but hes also operating in survival mode. Dirge's primary concern, as it always has been, is ensuring whatever he plans to do has the highest success rate, and can be done regularly. To that end, he plays decoy while Astarion robs merchants, helps set up Fog and Darkness, distracts guards and patrols, and otherwise ensures that if he steals, he can steal regularly. If he kills, it'll either go unnoticed (The Warden), or be done in such a manner as to ensure he receives no pushback on it (Nere). If he loots or scavenges, its abandoned buildings (Moonhaven), ABOUT to be abandoned buildings (Waukeen's Rest), or the owner is someone he plans on killing (Auntie Ethels Swamp Cottage). Dirge is very consistent on his "dont get Got by the Cops" position, and he rarely if ever gets confronted. On the rare instances he does, +15 to Persuasion (he has Deception expertise also but doesnt use it).

King of NEVER GETTING CAUGHT!!