#but i've restrained myself in time

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 1: Halfnelson

This album is SO GREAT!! On my first listen I was immediately very impressed by it and I really love how it has this very particular early 70s rock sound that I'm a big fan of, while still being distinctly Sparks and its own special thing, at a time when Sparks was just starting to become its thing - the heart of it all was there from the very start! While it's not my top #1 favourite Sparks album or even one of my top 5 favourites (which is a nebulous category anyway that's likely to change and shift with time of course, and not even something I pay THAT much attention to) it's definitely still UP THERE and a very special album in my heart that I revisit quite often. Especially when I need something to simply relax but also appreciate some of that early Sparks' experimental and... almost whimsical? sound.

This album also reminds me of winter, a very snowy one at that, and that's in big part because of when I started listening to it for sure, but some of that vibe is already there in the music anyway if you ask me. Walking around a Christmas market in the city and hearing random tunes from this album playing in my head all the while, that's one great memory I have from last year. If I were to give this album some sort of visual representation it would definitely involve a lot of browns and other earthy tones - it would be very dark and mysterious without being scary or truly unnerving necessarily - think something like the Edith Piaf (Said It Better Than Me) music video, but less colorful and involving more wooden materials (yes, this is VERY specific and also definitely an image that's supported by that wintery association, as well as the imagery that my brain came up with for Simple Ballet, but more about that below...).

Favourite songs (and other highlights):

Wonder Girl

Roger

High C

Fletcher Honorama (the entire atmosphere this song has is incomparable with anything else)

Simple Ballet (this one was a later favourite but the IMAGERY and atmopshere here is, once again, very special, I actually developed an entire music video idea in my head for it at this point, even if it feels very vague)

Saccharine and the War (probably my favourite on the album)

No More Mr. Nice Guys (THAT guitar solo!! a real mind-blower on my first listen too)

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The Witch of Emwy - Chapter 1 (and the only chapter you will ever see)

Be kind, I wrote this age 14 :')

****

Immortality, the thing many sought after, all across time. Everyone yearned for it. Everyone except her. Perhaps that was why the gods granted her that, to turn her into a great cosmic joke. She certainly felt like one. The 'wise' and 'powerful' Obsidian Emwy, Protector of the Caverns of Time, Chosen One of the Gods, Time Witch, etc etc. She never asked for anything of the sort.

How she despised those gods, treating her like a plaything and her life like a particularly amusing puppet show. No, not even that. Toys were treated well, tucked back into their boxes and left to rest. All she got was heckling and a lack of peace and privacy. But as much as she loathed them and dreaded their meddling, there was one thing she detested more than even the gods.

Mortals.

Foolish, clumsy, disgusting creatures. Her lair was decorated with their remains and weapons. She had to have slain each and every one within a hundred leagues radius. Yet still they came, wielding swords aplenty, with their clanking armor. They made such noise, disrupted the wonderful quiet and trampled the gorgeous flowers that sprouted up everywhere. Worst of all, they called her names, from mildly deriding ones like 'Witch', to full blown insults such as 'Abomination', or 'Monstrosity from the Depths of Hell, Evil Incarnate who Lives only to be Slain'. She actually enjoyed killing those bastards.

Obsidian was leaning against her cave, half-asleep, when she heard the telltale sign of rattling metal. Heaving an irritated sigh, she got up. "It's almost time for my nap. Why will they never come in the morning, when I am not asleep?" She muttered. Gripping her scepter in one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other, she stepped out into the blazing sun, to face a horde of knights.

They rode warhorses, worth their weight in gold, regal creatures that moved with grace and style. She rather liked them, and briefly toyed with the idea of keeping them after she killed the humans. The knights looked like a set of dolls built from the same mold. All had the pale skin with golden hair, chiseled facial features that were heavily scarred, and all wore heavy armor. They stared at her.

The tallest one, aboard a black horse, spoke. "O Great Witch, we-"

"Let's get this over with. I'm tired and I want to sleep," Obsidian said, cutting him off. She had heard a million variations of this speech, and had no desire to hear another. It was always the same thing. 'We have come to end your reign of tyranny upon this land', 'We have come to slay you and lay your wretched body to peace'. Did they not get the message? She did not want the darn speech, or even for any of them to come at all. She just wanted to live life peacefully.

"Lady Witch, please hea-"

Obsidian did not want to hear it, and smashed her scepter into the ground in front of the horse. It spooked, rearing up, which threw the knight off and onto the ground in an undignified manner. She prepared a spell, reaching for her magic, only to find that it was blocked off. She was tired, but surely not so tired as to be incapable of wielding magic? While she was pondered the issue, a rogue snuck up behind her and clubbed her in the back of her head. She fell forward, catching her leg on a bramble. It made a long, painful gash, and she found herself entangled in it.

Struggling to her knees, Obsidian reached again for her power, to no avail. Whatever had happened, she had lost her greatest strength. But she was not about to let a bunch of humans defeat her. She reached for her scepter, but an armored foot kicked it away. She was trapped, surrounded, and utterly outnumbered. 

"So, this is it? A bunch of whiny, sniveling cowards finally bested me. Go ahead. End it. I will not give you bastards the satisfaction of seeing me beg for my life. Go on. I dare you." Her last words came out in a snarl, far harsher than she thought herself capable of. Perhaps she genuinely meant it, even though she was in no real danger. A few knights flinched, and she let out a snicker. Cowards indeed, just like all other mortals.

"Please, you mistake our intentions. We wish for your assistance, Great Witch. Our grand and fine kingdom, Luxatia, is in danger, and we have been charged with getting your help to save it." The tallest one spoke again, his voice gently pleading.

Obsidian spat a mixture of blood and saliva at the ground near his feet. "And why should I help you? What do I care for some foolish humans and their foolish society?" The blunt trauma to her head was healing quickly, and her bramble wound was already gone, not even leaving a scar. Her plan to stall until she was fully healed was working perfectly, and those idiots were playing right into her hands.

"Because you will die otherwise." The bastard who clubbed her in the head spoke, sliding a knife across her throat. She could feel the sharp edge of it.

Obsidian threw her head back and cackled. Threatening her with Death, when she was his champion. What fools. "Go ahead, stupid little mortal," she sneered.

The rogue went red in the face with rage. He pressed the knife against her neck, and she could feel the warm droplets of blood sliding down her neck. It did not hurt, strangely. She thought it would hurt more than that. No matter. It would heal immediately.

"Stop at once, Ralf!" The lead knight hastily rushed over, pulling the rogue off Obsidian, who was still shaking with laughter. "Lady Witch, please forgive us." He said to her, offering a hand. Idiot.

She grabbed it, threw him down, grabbed the knife and attempted to stab the chinks in his metal armor. A blast of dazzling, cold light interrupted her. It was followed by a blast of wind, which stole her knife away and knocked her to her knees. 

A voice, deep and rich like melted gold, spoke. "My dearest child, whatever do you think you are doing? Did you not get the message? I charge you to assist these knights to the fullest of your abilities. I expect them to succeed, or you to die trying." The light faded to reveal a majestic figure. She was inhumanly tall, clad in fine white silk, and she wore bracelets of golden light. Her circlet of black stood out against the gold of her hair, and her eyes were closed, long lashes brushing each other. Even still, they emanated light through her eyelids.

Obsidian let out a groan of irritation. "Solaria. How. Nice. To. See. You. Your. Wish. Is. My. Command." She gritted her teeth and spat out the words. Each one was an effort to say.

Solaria, goddess of light, was a constant thorn in her side. Solaria always ordered her around, often to do the most menial of tasks. And once again, her Gloriousness had gotten it into her undersized godly skull to give out yet another ridiculous command. Help them? Those stupid kingdoms rose and fell incessantly! There was no point in preserving one for a few more moments.

The knights around her stood silently, stunned and in awe. Then they jostled one another and fell to their knees in a prayer position, arms on top of their heads. Solaria let out a laugh. It sounded like wind chimes, jangling on Obsidian's nerves. "Children, your task is nigh-insurmountable. I hope you will make full use of my Chosen One's abilities. I suspect they will come in handy." She purposefully ignored Obsidian's glare. Still wearing a self-satisfied smirk, she raised her arms and disappeared in a flash of light, leaving the group temporarily blinded.

Everyone stood in stunned silence. Some of the knights were still groveling. Obsidian got up, brushed the dirt off her trousers, and retrieved her scepter. "Alright then, I guess I shall accompany you. Do not expect me to help out with any basic chores," she said in the haughtiest voice she could manage. "To where are we headed?"

The knights snapped out of their reverie at the sound of her voice. The lead knight said,"Lady Witch, we are going to the capital to report our success in your recruitment. Then, we shall head into the thick of the battle. I am Sir Waldo Humphrey, and my knights and I are the Battalion of Gilded Heroes. With you, we will be fighting-"

She raised her voice and cut Humphrey off. "Before we head off, I have two requests. Firstly, I'm not a witch. I'm not a lady. I am Obsidian Emwy. You can call me Ewmy, or Obsidian. Do not, ever, call me Lady Witch. Got that?" The knights nodded. "Excellent. Also, I want a horse. Not a mare, nor a farm horse, but one of those proper warhorses. The kind that are expensive. Now, if you will excuse me, I will be collecting my baggage." 

"Boris, John, you heard what Lady Emwy said. Get the Witch a horse!" Humphrey yelled at two knights. They exchanged looks of discomfort as Obsidian shot them a glare.

She stepped into the cavern that she called home. Over the years, Obsidian had carved out several small enclaves in the cave walls, to use as shelves for her potion books. Her cauldron took center stage, hanging below a natural opening in the cave's roof. She had a bed of heather, which she replaced weekly, and her wool blankets (which she raided from her occasional 'visitors') were piled messily in a corner. After all, she had been about to sleep when she was so rudely interrupted. Obsidian let out a yawn. She looked around the small cave, and felt a deep sense of unhappiness at leaving. It had been her home for so, so long, and she knew she would miss it. She placed her hand on the wall, feeling the thrum of magic, a river flowing just beneath her fingertips. Tears sprang to her eyes, and her throat felt oddly constricted. "Don't worry, Little One, I'll be back before you know it," she whispered. She was not sure if it was to comfort her, or the cave. Its magic welled up, and the walls lit up with a gentle silver glow, making her familiar room appear otherworldly. She grabbed her clothes, broomstick, a wooden spoon, abridged notes and a few potions, wrapped them in a blanket, and headed out. Stopping at the entrance to her cave, she pressed her forehead on the cave wall. "Keep everything safe for me, won't you?" She whispered to the cave. As she stepped out, a bubble encompassed the cave. It was a stasis field, meant to keep her belongings from rotting, decomposing, or otherwise being ruined while she was gone.

With that, she stepped away from the cave. Hugging her belongings to her chest, she walked towards the camp where the Knights were preparing to leave. Obsidian felt oddly vulnerable, as though a part of her had been left behind in her cave. It had been so long since she first stepped into that cave. It was like saying goodbye to an old friend, how nostalgia and longing swelled up before you even lost sight of them. It hurt, in a way she had forgotten about. But, at the very least, she would be back, someday. And the cave would still be waiting for her. That was the nice thing about immortal beings. 

A loud crash and a round of swearing interrupted Obsidian's thoughts. Instantly, her scepter glowed with magic and she assumed a combat stance, her possessions still tucked underarm. It took a while to realize that these were her new allies, not another round of irritants. Actually, she mused, they were still irritants. Just ones who happened to be on the same side as her.

Still grumbling to herself about the noise humans made, she strode to the clearing that the knights had made camp in. A herd of horses munched lazily on the grass, tails flicking idly. Standing off to the side, was a strange horse-like creature that caught Obsidian's eye. It was slightly smaller than a horse, with long ears and a bulky figure. Its eyes belied a sharp intelligence, and it oozed disdain for the horses. Obsidian instantly took a liking to it. She went over, picking up an apple that had fallen from a tree en route, and offered it to the animal. It glanced up at her, snorted, and took a large bite. Obsidian smiled. At least someone understood her.

She turned around to see the knight Humphrey called Boris, who was distinguishable only due to a scar on his eyebrow, leading a particularly well groomed horse over. It was jet black, with a long, silky mane. It stood ramrod straight with the kind of magnificence only warhorses had. Yet, the unassuming gray equine behind her still appealed more. 

"What is that creature, and why is it without a saddle?" Obsidian asked, pointing to the animal behind her.

"Witch Emwy, it is a mule. It hauls our wagon, which is where we keep our food and other necessities," Boris said meekly, hunching slightly when Obsidian glared at him for calling her 'Witch'. He appeared to be frightened by her. She approved. 

Wandering around the camp, she was rather astounded by the noise the group made. They seemed intent on bursting the eardrums of everyone in the area. Obsidian decided that she had to take matters into her own hands, before her ears had the opportunity to bleed. With a small burst of magic, she silenced everyone in the area. The instant peace was wonderful, and Obsidian let out a small sigh of relief. 

It was short lived, as Humphrey quickly came over and attempted to demand that she take the spell off at once. When he realized the spell stopped him from speaking, he began waving his arms around and stomping. The whole scene was rather comical, and Obsidian snickered at them.

She tossed her items into the wagon, yanked the blanket out, and wrapped it around her. As she lay against the base of a tree, she told Humphrey, "It'll wear out by midnight. Don't even think of waking me up. Solaria did not give me orders not to hurt you, only to help you. If you dare disturb my sleep, I will make you regret it." Her words, spoken in a deadpan, made Humphrey's face turn pale. Obsidian smirked and closed her eyes.

She was awoken by a soft, wet nose pressing against her cheek. She looked up to see the mule nosing her. It was deep into the night, and the moon shone through the trees, round and glowing with its power. "Thank you, mule," Obsidian mumbled. The mule snorted and shook its head. She had always liked creatures that were neither human nor god. In-betweens, her people had called them. In-betweens, just like her. She saw them as equals when neither humans or gods cared for them. It was one of the reasons she did not have a familiar apart from the Caverns of Time, who was not an actual familiar, merely a close friend and welcome companion in her solitude.

She gently got up, feeling rested, and folded up her blanket. After placing it in the wagon, she walked over to the other side of the tree, where the knights were playing a game of charades around the campfire. Boris was making an exaggerated caricature of a dragon, and everyone else was silently guffawing at him. They were all engrossed in their little charade of battle and dragons.

That was why they did not see the real, actual dragon sneaking up on them.

It was rather small, more of a wyrm than a true dragon. Nevertheless, it was rose above the trees, and the sight of it was enough to make Obsidian's blood run cold. The warm light from the campfire made its amber eyes glow, giving it a fearsome look. Or perhaps that was its magic. Its claws left massive gouges in the ground where it had stepped, and they were wickedly sharp and curved. With its lips curled back, she could see the huge yellow fangs, each as big as her entire head. It cut a terrifying silhouette against the light of the moon. Awe inspiring and terrifying, it brought to mind an old verse that had been sung to her, long ago. 

"Larger than the moon,

Greater than the gods themselves,

The dragon grinds mountains to dust,

Wrecks cities and leaves no victims.

Blood coloured scales, impenetrable,

Claws that crush instantly.

A tail longer than the river,

And breath of blue fire.

Once you see it, 

Nothing will ever compare to its glory."

Obsidian whispered the words under her breath. None of the stories could capture the its majesty, the bone deep dread it inspired. And this was a mere adolescent? For once in her life, she was intimidated. No, intimidated was far too weak a word. She was scared stiff. 

How was she meant to help them when she doubted that she could even save herself? Nevertheless, Solaria's command was a geas. Whether she liked it or not, she had to do something. 

"Oi! Humans! Watch out! Dragon at 12 o'clock!" Obsidian put as much rudeness as she could to disguise her terror. She dashed over to the wagon to get her scepter before she could see their reaction. It was no time to be petty, no matter how gratifying their reactions would be.

She grabbed the scepter and swung it like a bat. A massive purple fireball emerged from it, soaring through the air like it had been catapulted. The wyrm turned to stare at it, fascinated by its light. As a result, it got a face full of magic fire. It screamed, a horrible noise full of agony.

The knights took it as a sign to charge. They swung their broadswords at the wyrm's oversized feet, and the creature let out a cry of pain. It was but a child, Obsidian realised. It must have came over to look at their campfire, naively curious, not knowing what that strange light was. Though it might have looked scary, it was in no way going to harm them. The thought made her stomach suddenly sour. However, now that they had injured the wyrm, it would never trust them. If only she had not attacked it first, perhaps it might have survived its encounter with the knights.

As if to punctuate her thought, the wyrm fell. It made a thundering crack as it hit some trees. A distant cheer, obscured by the sheer loudness of the wyrm's fall, emanated from its feet. Obsidian looked away, uncomfortable. The wyrm, defeated, let out its death rattle. It made a long keening sound, ripe with sadness and pain, and let its head fall. By all rights, a flash of light should have accompanied its death as its magic was released. However, there was none.

Perhaps, just perhaps, it had not died yet. Perhaps she could make amends. The thought sent Obsidian sprinting towards the fallen wyrm. Though she could not heal it, she could at least get the Cave to put it in a stasis, so she could get a healer to it. If it would not fit into the Cave, she would simply blast a hole in its entrance. The Cave would surely forgive her. 

She arrived just in time to watch Humphrey behead it. Before she could yell for them to stop, Humphrey swung his sword in an overhead arch. The wyrm had just enough time to look her in the eye, and Obsidian could see the fear and agony it faced, before Humphrey's sword cleaved through its neck. Light flashed before their eyes, and Obsidian had to hastily put up a shield to prevent them from getting burnt by the heat of its magic. However, as soon as the magic faded away, Humphrey was back at it. He had not made a clean cut, and he had to make a few more blows before it finally separated. Small mercy then, that the wyrm had died after the first hit. But the fact was of no comfort to Obsidian, who stared down at the severed head. 

Why did she care? After all, she had slaughtered round after round of the stupid knights that poked their heads around her home. She had gone out of her way to destroy villages near her. She had killed children, even babies fresh out of their mother's wombs. What was one more? Why did it hurt so badly to see that young dragon die? Perhaps the reason was one of species, that dragons were rare and magnificent. Perhaps it was because she had decided it was malicious, simply because it was powerful and scary, and tried to slay it, just like how people tried to slay her, and the irony hurt. Perhaps it was just the final straw. After all, it had been so long since she last left the cave, and for what? To hurt other in-betweens?

She wanted the knights dead. She wanted Humphrey dead. She wanted herself dead. Instead, she took the emotions, and her conscience, led them by the hand over to a small hole, and tossed them in. Then she buried it. It was a trick she had discovered after she buried the bodies of the first village's inhabitants, when the noise had kept her up one night too many. Emotions, bodies. What was the difference?

Humphrey staggered up to her, lugging the wyrm's head. "Look at it! It's magnificent! This is certainly a wonderful omen for our adventures to come. By the time we are done, all bards will sing songs of us, and everyone across the empire will know our names!" The knights behind him let out a loud cheer.

Obsidian laughed. It was a bitter laugh, full of anger and sadness and regret. It was full of hatred, for the gods, especially Solaria, and for the knights, and most of all, herself.

Indeed, it was a wonderful omen of their adventures to come.

****

Congrats on making to the end!! Not tell me: Was it as bad as I said it was? (Cos I'm trying to track my progress since I started writing regularly, and I figured this was a good way to do it)

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch @ramwritblr, @urnumber1star, @fortunatetragedy, @bigwipscholar, @ratedn

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@finicky-felix, @evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@xenascribbles,

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[gatorlovebot]

My pain is better today, so my brain is working again (at least a little bit lmao), so claiming and puppy Simon!!! I have a couple thoughts on it

1. I think that he wants something to show his devotion to you, both inside and outside puppy-space. You have given him a love he never even knew existed, let alone thought he deserved, and he might not be ready to give you a ring (might not ever be ready for it, might not even be able to with the whole “being legally dead” thing). But a necklace seems too close to a collar, and something with just his initials or a heart of it doesn’t feel big enough, not with how much you’ve changed his life. One day, when he’s spacing out and fiddling with his dog tags, he gets the idea. He gets you a special chain thing that can convert between a bracelet and a necklace, and on the chain? One of his dog tags. He tells you, in part it’s a way of showing that you belong with him, but it’s also a promise to everything and everyone that he will follow you everywhere, including into death. If they ever find you dead, his soul will have departed with you, and Price or anyone else will have to bury you together (or if you want to be cremated, mix your ashes together). Simon is a strong man, who has fought to survive through so much physical and emotional pain, but a world without you is one he refuses to live in, so this is his promise to you.

2. In much smuttier news, he also love biting you. It started as his nervous nips, then a communication tactic, then he just had an oral fixation and your fingers are so good to have in his mouth and having your neck in his mouth soothes his fixation, reminds him your alive because he can taste your pulse, and makes you all squirmy <3 one day while he’s humping you, he bites at you to try to silence himself a bit, and ends up biting too hard and breaks the skin. Poor puppy gets so hard everytime he sees the scabbed over bite as it heals, and just glancing at it can send him into puppy space. You, of course, notice and decide, after a week where Simon has been a bit insecure that you’re going to have him mark you properly with his bite. You sit down and tell your puppy to come. He kneels before you, curious, and you tell him to sit on your lap and put his teeth on your throat. He follows with no hesitation, and just mindlessly rests his teeth against that spot, his breathes causing you to shiver in hot anticipation. “Now, I want you to be a good boy, and bite.” Simon freezes: Simon the man flinching at the thought of hurting you, Simon the puppy wanting to follow your orders blindly and wanting to mark you, and Ghost wanting to taste your blood on your own order. “I know, puppy, you’re a good boy for thinking of my safety first even when I order something, my smart and sweet boy <3 but I want to have your mark on my body forever, so I want you to bite and if it heals, I’ll just have you bite over and over again until it stays <3. So, as long as you’re ok with it, I’ll ask again: Puppy, bite”.

3. A tiny bit of piss play, as a treat to myself: Simon completely underestimates just how far into puppy space he would be able to sink when this all first started. First, he thought he’d never be able to do it, then that he’d be able to play along but not get super out of his head, but now he’s here, and he’s fighting against instincts he shouldn’t have since he’s not actually a fucking dog. He shouldn’t be basically chewing up your used underwear, rubbing them all over himself to get the scent to stick around longer, or getting annoyed when any actual dog comes by you, and he sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking about pissing on you to claim you. I think out of everything, that’s something he keeps buried so deep within himself, wrapped in shame and disgust. He never meant to tell you, and he never would’ve. Except one day, he falls DEEP into puppy space, and he drank a lot of water from his bowl, and you were being so hot so he couldn’t keep himself from humping. Usually, when Simon is in puppy space, especially for longer scenes, you make sure to tell him to “go potty” every once in a while, because 1) it drives in the puppy space deeper and proves that you can take care of him and all his bodily needs and 2) you don’t want to risk him going to deep and having an accident and then being too ashamed to be a puppy again. But you didn’t see how much water he drank from his bowl, and thought the break earlier was enough :(( so Simon is humping you, and his cock fees leaky, and he’s so desperate and the a burst of liquid comes out, not cum, and Simon freezes and starts to whine distressed and pulling off you to hide his puppy cock with his hands. You realize what happened, and immediately are comforting him and petting him, and you guide him to the bathroom but come in with him because you are afraid if you leave him alone at this point he will spiral, all while trying to ignore how hot it was that this giant man got so lost in being your puppy he didn’t know he needed to piss and inadvertently pissed on you a lil like a puppy trying to mark its territory. You bring him back, and have to have a long conversation with him both in and out of puppy space about how you don’t mind, that you even find it a little attractive, but that you will watch him more closely in scenes to make sure this doesn’t happen again if that’s what he wants. It takes a long, long time with a lot of discussions, communication and research for Simon to be ok with it happening again, but he can’t deny that he gets insanely turned on by the thought of pissing himself as he humps you again, claiming you as his just like puppies do <3

Sorry it’s still not the best, and not the most coherent, but if you have anything you want me to expand on, I absolutely will!

-🐶

bestie, honey, sweetie, literal LOVE OF MY LIFE how do you know exactly what i need every single time? somehow you are in my brain reading my thoughts because whenever you send me a message about puppy simon it's like tailor made for me <3 i'm also very glad to hear that you're feeling better. "sorry it's still not the best" anon, i promise that i want to hear all of your thoughts about puppy simon, no matter how jumbled they are (not saying these thoughts are jumbled, they're literally so beautiful and delicious). but always feel free to word vomit about puppy simon in my inbox.

i love the dog tag idea and tbh it made me tear up a little bit because yeah you've given him a world he never thought possible, a world that's only worth it if you're in it. and i love how it kind of subverts the roles ya know, like him, the puppy, giving you dog tags. would also love to hear your thoughts on collaring simon because i looooove collaring but i think it's something you two have to work up to. puppy simon would looove a collar but simon the person has his hangups, fearful he would feel restricted and panic.

the biting is everything and your writing is just. something else, dude. he just loves having his mouth on your skin, your body is his favorite toy. and he didn't mean to break skin, he just gets so worked up when he humps and humps and humps, he gets so loud and it's so embarrassing to him sometimes that he needs to muffle himself a little bit. he feels sooo bad when he first breaks skin, but feels even worse at the way it makes his cock twitch and leak. he shouldn't want to hurt you when all you do is coo at him and pet him :( picturing him climbing into your lap because god he's so fucking big but he's just your little boy, your sweet little lap dog <3

he cums in your lap when he tastes your blood and hears your wounded cry, he laps at your blood, cleaning up his mess. and the claiming bites work for him out of puppy space too. the dog tags are one thing to claim you and prove his devotion, but something material can't express his need for you, his hunger for you like a bite mark can.

piss play! piss play! piss play! anon, i'm giving you a kiss. with tongue. this is what i love so much about this au because as filthy as it is it's all about communication and trust building and meeting other's needs. reminding him to go potty during a scene so you can prove to him you can be in charge of his needs? taking on that responsibility so he doesn't have to think about anything other than being a happy puppy? i need it saur bad.

also love the drinking out of a bowl mention because above anything the puppy play dynamic has quickly become more of a lifestyle than just a kink. him drinking out of a bowl that says "simon" or "puppy" on it i could die.

the shame and guilt this man has drives me insaneeee. but that's why i love this au so much because we get to help him unlearn that shame lol. even though you're completely fine with his other deeply puppy behaviors, encouraging them selfishly, he's still like "wanting to piss on them is Too Far" so he's devastated when it happens on accident, his body betraying him one of the worst ways he could ever imagine :( cleaning him up is one of those rare moments when you have to be very direct with him. your voice is still soft because you knows he's scared and still in puppy space but every word is intentional and every touch is comforting until he's finally able to crawl back into your arms when he's all clean.

it's one of those things he still wants to do, but his feelings about it are just Too Much still. your words help a lot but he's still just stuck on it. so he fantasizes about covering you in his piss, his scent, in the mean time <3

[pasdetrois]

tagged by @bookwyrrn to share my top nine first watches of the year. thank youuu 💘

I'll pass this along to @taralkariel @teaposing @seasparrow though as always, please feel free to ignore~~

[ruvviks]

ever since i remembered my ocd diagnosis (it got offhandedly mentioned in my psych eval at the hrt office and i have memory issues) my life has made so much more sense

[bunnihearted]

🥡

[eggdesign]

I promise i'm still working on the milk theme i'm just also doing this

[divinekangaroo]

been trying to find tools/advice/quick cheat methods on how to work out, from the point of visualising or conceptualising a scene or story I want to write, what its approximate word count needs to be.

and then the correlary; how to split those ideas backwards to segment scenes into ~2500 word portions.

[alicent-green]

*sees the colour green* wow nice Alicent Hightower reference

[bifuriouswaterbender]

Start easy: Steve Harrington

[atrenchcoatofteaandspite]

I'm resisting making any comments about the upcoming American election

december???? what next??? 2024?????

[haiamkai]

ice is one hell of a drug

[no-one-hears-me]

stopped fasting for cottage cheese lmao

[comicaurora]

Hey, sorry if you’ve been asked this before, but I have ADHD and I’ve been following your comic for years and just now have started to write my own comic (partially because you really inspired me). But I’m really struggling with staying on the project even when it’s boring and getting myself to work on it in the first place. Do you have any tips on how to keep your brain invested or just to make yourself do the work at all?

I have excellent news, I literally just figured out something really important about this.

So when you're an ADHD kiddo or otherwise have difficulty staying on task in a structured environment where Task is the Priority, the main way people try to MAKE you stay on task is by removing your access to anything that is not The Task. No phone, no TV, no doodling, no going outside, etc. In practice, this just makes us miserable because it takes the boredom that's always simmering around a 2 or 3 and cranks it all the way up to 11. In the same way that you would have difficulty staying on task if you were in physical pain, this crushing existential monotony makes it very difficult to work. The work might get done simply because you have no other options, but it will not be done quickly or well, and it will take a while to recover from how much it hurt.

What I realized earlier this week is I caught myself doing this to myself. I had 42 pages of background colors to do, and I thought to myself "this sounds really tedious, but I suppose I have nothing better I can do." And I realized what I'd just thought, and got very alarmed.

Because back when I was an ADHD kiddo imprisoned by school scheduling and a million little factors that keep children immobile and restrained, I couldn't stop thinking about how big and exciting the world was, and how much I wanted to be anywhere but here. When I was feeling really crushed in I'd pick a random spot on the maps on my wall and just imagine being there instead of my bedroom. This was the impetus behind almost all of my creative energy. I've said it before - anything is a prison if you can't leave, and being in a prison makes it easy to imagine how amazing things could be outside of it. Aurora's initial worldbuilding was forged in the crucible of fifth grade misery. My enthusiasm for art and my creative drive are inextricable from my sense of wonder and yearning for excitement in the real world. Not escapism, but appreciation. Wonders unimaginable are out there, and I gain just as much joy seeking them out as I do conjuring them up in my head and sharing them with all of you.

So now that I'm a grown-up with actual freedom in every way I've been able to get, the idea that I was staying on task by making myself believe the world was small and not worth seeing was extremely alarming. It could keep me on task for an afternoon, but at the cost of slowly extinguishing the thing that made me want to make art in the first place - the hunger to experience and draw inspiration from all the myriad complexities in the world.

So what I've been doing is I've been purposefully and intentionally taking excursions whenever I catch myself thinking "I could take a break but it wouldn't be worth it, it's the same outdoors as always, I'll be uncomfy and unproductive and tired." Because that is never true. Every time I've put down the stylus and gone out, I've been renewed in one way or another, and when I come back to comfort fully recharged I get a lot of shit done. Because it is easier to work on anything if you remember why you wanted to make it in the first place, and it is self-defeating misery to just lock yourself in with it and tell yourself you're a bad person if you can't get it done.

I honestly don't know how widely applicable this is. I have worse wanderlust than anyone I know, so for me this has always been modeled as imprisonment vs freedom. I've also been extremely lucky to find myself in a profession that lets me set my own pace on literally everything I do. But I genuinely believe that when it comes to making art with ADHD, you need to give yourself freedom to move laterally, not just in the direction of obvious forward progress. We don't think linearly in any other part of our lives - art is no different.

[leaky-bunny]

omo tropes i absolutely adore:

humping to help hold. watching someone wiggle and whimper and moan while rubbing against their hand or a pillow (or my fav: a partner's leg) is enough to make anyone's mouth water. when someone is so close to an accident that they have to distract themselves with the enticing friction of something pressing on their parts? delicious.

peeing in bottles. for amabs, they have to try and aim their twitching cock into the hole while drops leak out of the tip. for afabs, they have to line up their pee hole with the bottle's opening, oftentimes making a mess because the piss just sprays out too aggressively. either way, it's just sooo *chefs kiss*

physically holding the pee hole shut. this is something i've tried a couple times myself and let me tell you, it's a truly magical thing. with a finger firmly pressed against someone's pee hole, you essentially cut off their option of relief completely. no matter how hard they squirm and relax and even push, nothing can come out. they're forced to sit with the maddening feeling of fullness until eventually the finger is removed and all the piss comes gushing out of them in a torrent.

begging. probably a basic answer but i don't care, i'm a whore for dirty talk. phrases like "i can't hold it much longer" or "i feel so full" or even just "please let me pee" is enough to make me instantly slick. bonus points if there's a term of authority in there like mistress or sir.

peeing outside, especially in the woods. there's something so electrifying about squatting down behind a bush or watching a stream splatter against a tree trunk or make a puddle in the dirt, especially if someone is at their absolute limit and has to find a spot for a last resort.

having to stop mid way through peeing. imagine finally, finally getting the release you crave and then all of a sudden having to shut it off. the shiver you get, the way your pee hole convulses, your bladder aching with all that liquid still trapped inside. my favorite scenarios of this include: being stumbled upon while peeing outside, someone physically pulling a character away from the toilet, a dom stopping a sub's stream just to be mean, and even the classic "i'll just pee a little to relive some pressure."

being tied up while desperate. one time i read this fic about a girl being strapped to a chair and pressed for information by this guy who kept giving her water as "mercy" since she'd been there a while. her bladder started filling and soon she was desperate and he used that to his advantage, pressing on her bulge and teasing her until she broke and told him everything in exchange for access to the bathroom. i can't remember how it ended and god i wish i could find that again, because the idea of being restrained and not even able to squirm is delicious.

the iconic pee dance. i mean come on, what's not to love? when someone's resolve finally crumbles enough for them to abandon all sense of dignity, you know they're truly at their breaking point. seeing the full package is truly a treat; i'm talking hands shoved between thighs, feet prancing back and forth, knees bending up and down, body hunched over at the waist, face scrunched in concentration, the whole ordeal. it's the sexiest sight imaginable, especially if that dance suddenly stills and a flood follows soon after.

[the-acid-pear]

:[ <- fell down