Bodacious Alien Babes

𐚁 Ayla, annoyed that no one else seems to give a damn about cards anymore

"Proud of yourself, huh, Doc?"

"Mm, quite."

She smirked, 'cause it sure as shit looked like it. "Because of your gameplay, or because you get to watch me take off more of my clothes??"

Emmrich went red in the face, and Ayla snickered, but he surprised her when he said, "While I do enjoy cards, I would be lying if I told you it was for any reason other than that last one, darling."

Ohohohoho.

Bull let out a loud, appreciative laugh, and even Tal looked close to joining in. Ayla felt her smirk turn wicked, and she leaned over to tap him on the nose, her lips ghosting his cheek when she whispered into his ear, "Alrighty, Doc. Guess I shouldn't keep you waiting then."

She scooched off of the bed, and Tal snickered. "Oh, this'll be good." He gave Emmrich a cheeky look. "Be careful what you wish for, doctor."

Emmrich surprised Ayla yet again when he fired back a retort instead of simply getting even redder in the face.

Which he definitely did.

But he also took another sip of his grave-mist and got a mischievous look in his eyes, narrowing them at her even though he was speaking to Tal.

"Oh, I find it awfully hard to imagine I'd ever regret this."

🃏 CATCH THE FULL EPISODE ON AO3!

Looking to catch up on the latest Yeehaw Peepaw? 👀

💥 Episode 8: A Dark & Spawny Night

❤️‍🔥 New On NugfliXXX! Lose the clothes, kadan

🐴 Yeehaw Peepaw! Master Post

Ploppin' the usual cowboys below to say howdy! Gentle tags as always, and absolutely no pressure to read! ILYSM!!! 🤠💕

@onelooseskull @serialsforbellara @davrinsleftpectoral @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @hedwigoprah @guacamolleee @introvertedfangrl @vishantikaffar @redaresss @sorcerousadventurer @necromanticsoul @brightbreezeblog @casa-dei-corvei @lycheecatee @handsignals @wolfmoonwildflowers @notyourmamasdeerbat @sandcastlekings @curiouswisp @quaksi @trashwithvariety @trash-nerd @dudewheresmynug @rooks-dagger @grand-crow @tevivinter @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai @zennihilation @kogarashi-art @pinkvbay @chaosherald @xkatchy @reaver-of-kirkwall @in-the-drowning-deep @ass-deep-in-demons @bronzieinthedas @winterhartarts @viagosbrother @oddsaint22 @wickedadaar @lemondelighted @woundedsoul12 @tarasmom @veilguardingonmain @andthekitchensinkao3 🌿

Tag List

“THE KNIFE. IS NOT SHARP.”

‘No. It is a knife for a specific task. This one is meant to open clams.’

Lucanis worked from muscle memory as he inserted the knife into the shell, twisted it slightly, severed the connecting muscles of the clam, and deposited the meat and juices into a bowl.

It was a challenge to plan meals that would satisfy both Emmrich’s vegetarianism and Davrin’s food cowardice. When Bellara had returned to the Lighthouse with fresh clams from Minrathous, Lucanis had swallowed back his initial revulsion in the face of Bellara’s excitement with find.

Deep friend clams was the obvious choice, on the side of linguine with white wine and garlic sauce tossed with fresh mushrooms from Arlathan. Bellara had been delighted with the plan.

“THEY ARE. ALIVE?”

‘Yes. You should not cook with dead clams.’

“BUT WE COOK. DEAD CHICKEN.”

Lucanis paused his knife to contemplate how to explain it. ‘A live chicken has too many feathers to cook with.’

“GOOD POINT. CHICKENS ARE SMARTER. WOULD FIGHT BACK MORE THAN CLAMS.”

Spite suddenly swirled out of him, usually the sign that someone had returned to the Lighthouse.

“ROOK IS BACK,” Spite confirmed.

Rook. A wave of warmth flowed through him, and he knew he was smiling again. It was hard not to smile. She loved him. Loved them. It was real. It was shared.

He had never known happiness like this.

Which is why he was very surprised when Rook entered the dining hall, looked at him, and turned around, pushing through Harding and Bellara in a hasty exit. He and Harding exchanged confused looks until realization spread over Harding’s face and she too exited.

Bellara tiptoed in on hesitant feet. “What just happened?”

“I don’t know,” he said, continuing to open clams without thought. He was confident in her love.

Mostly.

“I WILL GO. INVESTIGATE.”

“Tell her you’re there, Spite,” he said out loud for Bellara’s benefit. “Do not snoop!”

Spite grumbled a response and passed through the closed door.

“Why aren’t you steaming open the clams?” Bellara asked, joining him in the kitchen. “Isn’t it much easier?”

“I don’t like the smell,” he admitted. “It holds bad memories.”

“Of what?”

****************************************************************************************************************************

“If the gods promised me the removal of clams from existence, I might let them win!” Rook grumbled as she paced around the pond in Lace’s room.

“You’re being Crow dramatic,” Lace laughed. “I have seen you eat clams.”

“They’re delicious,” she said. “But they are evil before they are on my plate. You know they spit, right?”

“No.”

“Yes! They will spit salt water right in your face when you’re trying to harvest them out of the sand. I was on a contract once….”

****************************************************************************************************************************

“I was on a contract,” Lucanis said. “There were rumors of an Antaam invasion coming out of the Treviso fish markets. No one could pinpoint where they were coming from or if they were true. Caterina sent me to work at a clam stand.”

****************************************************************************************************************************

“…Where Viago sent me undercover into the Treviso fish market to find the source of rumors about an Antaam occupation, before it happened. Last time I let him choose my cover. I was the assistant to the clam harvester who worked for his dad. At low tide, this kid that barely spoke a word and I would go out into the bay. He would rake the sand and when we saw signs of clams, I’d dig them out. They spit. They ran. Have you seen a clam run? It skitters, Lace. I hate things that skitter!”

“It doesn’t have legs!” Lace was bent over in her chair, laughing.

“They still skitter!”

****************************************************************************************************************************

Lucanis continued to open clams. “My cover was a sous chef to the owner, who sold fresh clams and fried clams from a market stall. I was in charge of steaming the clams. Behind the stall, he had a small shack with a sink and an oven, vented through the ceiling. No windows and he wouldn’t let me keep the door open. For hours, I was trapped in there, cleaning and steaming clams. The smell was awful. The harvesting assistant lost her breakfast when she opened the door to deliver more clams. The smell of her vomit was a relief to my senses.”

“That’s terrible!” Bellara breathed.

“Yes, I could hear nothing. The whole situation was not conducive to succeeding in my contract.”

“So what did you do?”

****************************************************************************************************************************

“When the tide came back in, we would lug buckets of clams back to the food stall. The stall owner sold both fresh clams and deep fried clams. The owner had a sous chef steaming clams inside this structure the owner called his clam palace. It was a shack with an oven and a sink in it. No windows and when you opened the door, the smell of steaming clams would hit you in the face like you were walking into a brick wall.”

“You know this from experience?” Lace giggled.

“Funny. I was supposed to run clams, both cleaned and steamed, from the palace to the stall. I opened the door once and that brick wall of clam scent smacked me in the face and I puked everything I had ever eaten into the street. It was embarrassing. The sous chef held my hair back while I heaved for what felt like an hour. He helped me beg the owner to let me keep my job. I think he felt sorry for me.”

Spite laughed. While she appreciated the sign of his presence, she didn’t understand why he was laughing.

“After that, the kid was put in charge of running the clams and I sat at the stall with the owner and took the clams out of the shell for him to fry. It was great. I was in the middle of the fish market and I could hear everything! Until….”

****************************************************************************************************************************

“I am not proud of what I did,” Lucanis said.

Illario strolled into the dining hall and wrinkled his nose. “Clams? Really, cousin?”

****************************************************************************************************************************

“The clam palace burned down!” Rook stopped pacing and threw her hands in the air. “One morning, it was just a sink and an oven under a pile of smoldering ash.”

“What happened then? Did you get fired this time?”

“No! When I came back from clamming with the kid, the owner had set up a table for me. He handed me a clamming knife and told me to start opening clams.”

“Oh no. You didn’t.”

Rook giggled. “I did not stab him with it. However, I learned that day what a clamming knife is and what a clamming knife is not.”

****************************************************************************************************************************

“Yes, I burned the clam palace to the ground,” Illario said proudly. “It was a thing of beauty. A brief bonfire in the dead of night. It burned clean and straight up, touching nothing around it, and smelled like smoked clams.” He paused and smirked at Lucanis. “You know, cousin, Belita gave me that fire potion.”

“Rook?” Lucanis asked incredulously. “You got the potion to burn down the shack from Rook?”

Spite laughed hysterically.

‘What is so funny?’

No response from the spirit. Just more uncontrollable laughter.

The expression on Illario’s face was as if he could hear Spite’s laughter and was on the verge of joining him. “She had all the good potions back then. She had access to Viago’s stock.”

“What happened after the shack burned?” Bellara asked.

“I was tasked with clearing the rubble away from the sink and the oven. Since the fire was started in the oven –”

“You’re welcome.”

“…. only the sink was useable. I was tasked to cleaning the clams and he put his harvesting assistant in charge of opening the clams.” He saw Bellara look at his hands as he continued to open clams without paying attention to the task. “That lasted about an hour.”

****************************************************************************************************************************

“I thought the knife was just old, so I sharpened it,” Rook said.

“Of course you did,” Lace said, tipping her head back against her chair. “How long until you sliced your hand?”

“About an hour.”

Rook blinked at the hysterical laughter echoing in her head. “Spite, why is that so funny?”

****************************************************************************************************************************

“She sharpened the clam knife!” Lucanis grumbled. “She cut herself badly, but the owner gave her a potion and switched our jobs. She cleaned and I opened. The owner’s kid ran them back and forth. It worked out well. I sat at the stall opening clams and was easily able to listen for intel.”

He paused. “I also learned the spices he mixed into the batter. He was very creative with his flavors.”

****************************************************************************************************************************

“Without the clam shack, washing the clams was fine. Once the harvesting nightmare was over for the morning, I stood at that sink and washed clams for hours, able to hear everyone around me in the fish market.”

“How long did you do this for?” Lace asked.

“Too long. It was two months before I was able to gather enough useful intel to bring to Viago.”

****************************************************************************************************************************

“How long did you work there?” Bellara asked.

“Too long. It was eight weeks before I was able to gather enough useful intel to bring to Caterina.”

Lucanis finished the last clam and set the knife down. With a streak of violet, Spite slammed back into his body and instantly took it over.

“Cousin,” Spite said to Illario. “Do you know?”

A growing smirk played around Illario’s lips. “Do they not?”

Spike cackled through Lucanis’s throat. “No! Be right. Back.”

Shoved to the side within his own body, Lucanis watched curiously as Spite ran from the dining hall into Lace’s room.

“Rook! Need you. In the dining hall.”

‘You needed our body to ask Rook?’ he asked dryly.

“FORGOT I HAD IT.”

He felt her pull on the Fade and knew her hands were reaching for the knives hidden at her thighs while Lace jumped to her feet.

“What’s wrong?”

Spite was unfazed by her reaction. “Nothing. All good. Nothing bad. Please come.”

Still unsure what was happening, Lucanis sat back as Spite led Rook and Lace back to the dining hall.

Illario looked amused. Too amused.

Still in control of their body, Spite ushered everyone away from the clams and into the seating area in the corner. He pulled Rook down onto the couch beside him and then relinquished control back to Lucanis.

Lucanis blinked at the abrupt return and watched as Spite flittered excitedly in front of him. “Spite, what is going on?”

“TELL COUSIN. TO SAY IT.”

Illario was standing so still and straight but was bouncing on his heels, just slightly. Lucanis knew he was as excited as the swirling spirit next to him. With an internal sigh, he dutifully said, “Illario, Spite says you need to say it. Say what?”

Illario smile broadly and rubbed his hands together, his excitement now as obvious as Spite’s. “I can’t believe you don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Rook asked.

“Wait for it!” He threw out his arms in the air and struck a dramatic pose that he held, glancing over at Lace and Bellara for reaction.

Bellara giggled.

Lace and Rook sighed.

“Illario,” he warned.

With a graceful movement, he left his pose and clasped his hands together over his heart. “You were on the clam job together!”

Lucanis stopped breathing. “What?”

Illario held out both hands to him, palm up. “Sous chef.” With a flick of his wrists, he turned to Rook. “Assistant harvester.” He splayed his fingers over his chest. “Arsonist of the clam palace. The one person who had to deal with both of you smelling like clams for months.” Brushing at the front of his shirt, he collapsed into a languid recline in the chair and looked up at Bellara. “I should have gotten a hazard bonus on that contract.”

Slowly, Lucanis turned to Rook and found her staring at him.

“That was you?” they both asked in unified surprise.

Spite cacked with joy.

Tag List Management Post (on or off? Post here)

My oldest is a bit tricky to gift shop for. Finding stuff she likes that isn't also just expensive is...a challenge. But I love giving gifts (and the buzz from getting it just right), which is why between my husband and I, I'm the one in charge of Christmas shopping for our children.

And, well, my oldest does love Pokemon, but tends to like ones that aren't commonly sold as plushies. And I happen to know how to sew (amateur or intermediate at best, 50% self-taught, but whatever).

So I had this idea of making her a plush of one of her current (as of 2023, when I did this project) favorite Pokemon, Dudunsparce. Only I couldn't just do Dudunsparce because she told me about the rare three-segment variant that she really likes and has been hoping to find in Pokemon Violet (with no luck).

Of course, nobody has a Dudunsparce pattern.

But, it just so happens that as I was looking for ideas, I came across a Deviantart user who has made a Dunsparce pattern (link to the pattern). And unlike a lot of other Pokemon, Dunsparce and Dudunsparce don't look all that different from each other. I figured I could extrapolate the Dunsparce pattern into Dudunsparce.

So I did.

I added two ovoid segments, made a second drill bit in a smaller size, added to the chin spikes, and added to the wings. I had reference images of the Pokemon to help me get the colors right, and then went ham.

The yellow and sky blue are both a soft minky (no bumps, which was annoying to find in yellow in my local stores). The dark blue is flannel, while the white is polar fleece. All visible surface stitching is embroidery thread (it's shinier than all-purpose). I used stabilizer anywhere I would need to do topstitching or otherwise need things stiffened (eyes, belly swirl, back patches, drill cones), and picked up inexpensive pillows at Walmart for the stuffing. I may have overstuffed this boy (he looks lumpy), but it's fine. He's still cuddly.

And while I can't show you her smile because I'm protecting her identity (this is the internet after all), she loved it. His name is Noko (after tsuchinoko, the Japanese snake cryptid Dudunsparce is probably based on).

My husband picked up one of the Mega Pokemon toys (the rival version of LEGO that's had the Pokemon license for a while now) so we could have its Pokeball, and we put this guy inside it. Then we put the actual bricks for that Pokemon (still in their plastic bag) in a gift box, tissue paper over that, and the Pokeball with Dunsparce on top of that, closed the box, and wrapped it.

So that was the first gift Kid#1 opened when all the kids were opening a "want" gift on Christmas. She loved the little Dunsparce, and that she'd also have some bricks to assemble into another Pokemon.

We then opened a few other things—gifts from them to each other, gifts for my husband and me, the "read" gift—before we got around to "want" gift number two. We handed out the gifts to each of the girls. Kid#1's was a small box that, she discovered, contained two blue-wrapped Lindor truffles (sea salt milk chocolate, I think?) meant to look like...Rare Candy, I think? I had to look this stuff up online because I don't play Pokemon...and a card that said "What? Dunsparce is evolving!"

And then I went into the other room for a large box I'd recently set in there with a few other things, under the pretense of moving stuff around. No giftwrap, because it was so large. She started out confused, but I think she was catching on by the time she pulled tissue paper out and unveiled her Dudunsparce plush I made, the one on the original post. And she just started grinning and gushing.

Because like I said in the original post, this isn't something you can just buy from the Pokemon Company, because they don't make every Pokemon. And it wasn't just any plush, it was the specific rare version she liked.

Still one of my favorite gifting moments.

Using my tag list this time because I want to show off what I made, and to also spread the idea of "Self-Reblog Sunday."

@mama-qwerty, @jadeandroses, @handsignals, @himluv, @sorcerousadventurer, @dags-over-caravans, @chaosherald, @serialsforbellara, @necromanticsoul, @sandcastlekings, @redheadsramblings, @sapphireangelbunny, @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai, @wolfsong-the-bloody-beast, @hedwigoprah, @redaresss, @mushrooms-x-moss, @grand-crow, @davrinsleftpectoral, @blackwall-my-tiny-husband, @pixiedurango, @jukkaricity, @ladyofcrowsandcoffee, @lycheecatee, @the-archons-moustache, @rooks-dagger, @maagisterpavus, @dell-amor-te, @hibiscus-wo-tabeta, @reaver-of-kirkwall, @woundedsoul12, @shadrachanki, @jellyeliart

Darkness is the first thing he becomes aware of. Heavy and seething, suffocating in its density. The boy tries to speak, to ask, “Where am I? What is happening to me?”, but the words don't come. It's then that he notices the oily, viscous substance coating his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Slithering down his throat and stealing his voice. He tries to open his mouth in order to expel the offending substance, but his lips seem to be sealed shut.

Before the child can truly start to panic, his attention is caught by an entity nearby. A towering, misshapen silhouette moves within the gloom. As it comes closer, its figure is illuminated by effulgent blue. A low, frightened noise forces its way from between the boy's sealed lips. He knows that he needs to move, to run, but he is paralyzed by fear. The creature comes to a halt, and though it has no visible mouth, it speaks, regardless. The thing's voice is a discordant rasp that gives the feeling of its own physical presence.

“I have felt you calling to me in the Fade for many nights, child. Your envy is such a bright beacon… Infinitely jealous of the other children who have it so easy. They don't struggle to connect with each other or with their parents like you do. They don't stutter and lose their words like you do. Belonging isn't so much to ask for, is it? You need not suffer, young one, I can help you…”

As the thing reaches towards the child's face with one of its many, many hands, the paralysis relents all at once. With all the momentum provided by abject terror, he takes off sprinting as fast as his legs will carry him, heedless of the impenetrable blackness. That raspy, grating voice echoes all around him as he runs.

“Do you know of anyone else whose parents left them in a crypt as a baby?”

“Clearly there's something wrong with you. They didn't love you enough to keep you.”

“Your mother doesn't love you either. You're not her son. Not really.”

“You've seen the bond other children share with their mothers. So tender and loving… Where is that bond, hmmmm?”

“Too cold. Too stilted.”

A child's voice, now, hateful and mocking. “Why does he talk like that, Mama? Is he stupid or something?”

Abruptly, he slams full force into something that feels very much like a wall and bounces off of it. The boy stays where he's landed, head spinning and blinking back tears. The creature seems to catch up all at once, its presence suddenly everywhere. There are strange, tendril-like appendages gripping at the child's neck. Lifting his head up. Forcing his mouth open. A wave of nausea overcomes him as his vision starts to blacken at the edges.

Anselm jolts awake with a scream dying in his throat, heart hammering, drenched with sweat. He scrambles upright and retches into the basin next to his bed until acrid bile splatters against the stone. After a few moments, the nausea finally passes, leaving the qunari feeling cold and clammy. Ans brings trembling hands up to push the sweat-soaked hair out of his face, tying it up in his signature low ponytail. He sits on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands and breathes slowly and evenly. Coming down from the adrenaline high of one of those nightmares is always a long process.

Balconies, Beetles, & Blankets 🪲 Masterpost | Read on AO3

Yeehaw Peepaw! 🤠 Masterpost | Read on AO3

Making Spirits Bright ❄️ Masterpost | Read on AO3

Dr. Volkarin ⛈️ Read on AO3

Keep Calm & Carrion 💀 Read on AO3

Eggplant 🍆 Read on AO3

Oops! All Emmrook Fluff 🐲 Read on AO3

Gravemist 🪦 Read on AO3

The Sun, The Moon, The Truth 🌔 Read on AO3

The Spirit Box Mysteries 👻 Read on AO3

2025 Nugflix Unwrapped 🎁

This post is LIVE, baby! I'll keep adding stuff as I make/collect it! 🤗

@onelooseskull @davrinsleftpectoral @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @hedwigoprah @guacamolleee @introvertedfangrl @sunny374940 @sorcerousadventurer @necromanticsoul @brightbreezeblog @casa-dei-corvei @lycheecatee @handsignals @wolfmoonwildflowers @notyourmamasdeerbat @sandcastlekings @curiouswisp @quaksi @trashwithvariety @trash-nerd @dudewheresmynug @rooks-dagger @grand-crow @tevivinter @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai @zennihilation @pinkvbay @xkatchy @reaver-of-kirkwall @in-the-drowning-deep @ass-deep-in-demons @bronzieinthedas @winterhartarts @viagosbrother @oddsaint22 @wickedadaar @lemondelighted @woundedsoul12 @tarasmom @veilguardingonmain @andthekitchensinkao3 @nyx-de-riva 🌿

A clothing item they would wear: Oversized varsity jacket

A texture in their signature color: Blush pink ribbon

An animal that suits their personality: Brown bear

An environment that captures their story: A battlefield

An object in their bag: Swiss Army knife

An interest of theirs: Weightlifting

An abstraction that captures their vibe: Flowers growing through cracks in a sidewalk

A food or beverage they enjoy: Strawberry bubble tea

Tagging my Desiree enjoyers @stormemes11 and @lycheecatee 💕

Blank template: