#again i am aware its not that simple for everyone

[hiddenlife-manager]

I beg i beg i beg, i’ve read your latest Carlos fic repeatedly, PLEASE give me a part two, please please please i know it isn’t everyone’s taste but ITS MINE PLEASE

Carlos Sainz Jr Anal x femReader

cw... raw, cock, nsfw, anal sex, slight praise kink, creampie in ass, plot, hair gripping, hair pulling, simple sex due to injury, soft dom carlos, overstimulation, lube usage, lack of female pronouns, and lack of breast mentions, etc

notepad... hehe you ask and you recieve I wanted to go with a slight softer point of view in this due to his appendix being removed. I am like down for an anal series cause when i tell you I HAVE A LIST OF POSITONS. Anyway one down of the two stories I am writing for this month.

Part One

“He did it again. Carlos Sainz has won the Australian Grand Prix.” You heard an announcer state through the monitors hung on the walls in the Ferrari garage. You shook your head and placed your hands on your head to breathe for a moment. This race left you stressed, your mind worrying only about Carlos's current condition. What comforted you was seeing his car cross the checkered line, which allowed you to see Carlos was perfectly fine. You fanned yourself off rather quickly and rushed off with the rest of the Ferrari team to join the crowd.

Carlos drove his car into the garage and got out slowly, with the help of others, due to his inability to move rather quickly. He pumped his arm up in the air, walking to the crowd of all his team members; they hugged and cheered his name for this amazing win. The group high-fived or hugged him to celebrate. He eventually reached you, hugging you tightly, not letting you go for even a second, still wearing his helmet. Your lips kissed his hemelt, saying goodbye. He took his helmet and neck support off and celebrated with Lando and Charles before heading to the podium while you clapped the entire time.

The entire day was filled with interviews that he had to participate in. Carlos's win was important for multiple reasons; it showed his worth as a driver and also made him the only person so far to break current world champion Max Verstappen's streak. Yet he finally arrived back at the garage and walked slowly, his one hand resting on his side, where his appendix was and where the bandages currently are. He embraced you, allowing you to give extra support by placing your arm behind his muscular back.

“Another win for Carlos Sainz Jr., and right after getting his appendix removed, it is quite impressive.” You spoke with nothing but a joking tone. He looked down at you and kissed your lips quickly. “Amor, cállate.” He laughed while the two of you walked to the car. You helped him in carefully and couldn’t help but laugh just a bit.

“I am simply stating a fact. Perhaps all drivers should get their appendices removed. Well, except for Alex, his appendix is gone.” You two sat beside each other in the car, his hand slowly going up your leg. He didn’t care if he had his appendix removed or just raced; he wanted his part of the deal. Ever since the first time he made it to the podium, he wanted his gift. It had been four times in total, and now he wanted it again.  “Recuerda el trato.” He whispered in your ear; he knew speaking in English risked the driver hearing it, and you had learned the saying, so you knew what he was saying.

Your lips were on his the moment the both of you entered the hotel room. The door shut behind you two, but you made sure to be careful with Carlos. You were well aware he was still recovering and was feeling slight lingering pain. You grabbed his hand the second you two stopped kissing and slowly walked him to a chair. You sat on his lap, being careful. 

"Carlito, I will never forget,” you smirked, kissing his neck and slowly going down his body. “Besides, I have been planning the best way to do this.” Your hands reached his zipper and slid it down. His cock came out, and it was clear he was worked up. You heard him let out a gentle breath, but no moan. You wanted to take your time, but knowing Carlos, he just wanted to be with you. You sat up, walked over to the luggage, and pulled out the lube. You tossed it to him, and even if he was recovering, Carlos never missed it and caught it with ease. 

“Amor, you are truly rushing.” Carlos paused but chuckled, shaking his head and running his hand through his dark and soft hair. He opened the bottle and squeezed it onto his cock. You walked over to him. You were still standing, and Carlos was sitting staring up at you with his signature smile on his lips. Your hands touched his cock and began to spread a generous amount of lube. “I don't mind, eres mia after all.” He groaned and threw his head back. Your hands were working around his cock, and smirked. 

“You love this, Carlos. I know you're sad. You can’t fuck my ass every single day.” He placed the bottle to the side and grabbed your hair, pulling you up and kissing your lips. He let go of your hair and placed his hands on your hips, rolling through your dips. He helped you onto his lap so you didn’t hurt him. You decided to just rely on the lube his cock had, knowing it would take longer for you to get him in you. 

You slowly lowered your ass onto his cock and groaned as you gripped his shoulders and fell forward. He didn't care; he loved how weak you got. You moaned as you slowly made him enter and stretch you out. You were clearly struggling to take him in. You got him half way into you, but you had to stop. You pulled yourself off of him and were breathing heavily. 

“You can take it.” He whispered in your ear, caressing your hips, and you fully put yourself on his cock and moaned loudly. You couldn’t believe how good it always felt. You were out of breath from him being inside of you. Slowly, you started to go up and down, moving the way you knew he liked it. You rolled your hips each time you went down on him, and you could hear his soft grunts. “Perfecta…” He groaned as you were slow. 

“Love being on the podium, Carlito?" He smirked as he kissed your lips and held your hips to go up and down at a faster pace. You were a mess from the way he was softly praising you; he loved your body so much that he desired this more than any man. His hips slightly buckled up into your ass, and he was able to pull out a louder moan from you. Your hips went faster while moans began to slip from your lips, and he continued to kiss you, attempting to disguise the moans through kissing. It was clear he was feeling just as weak as you were; the feeling of tightness was overwhelming, and he loved your thighs against his. 

“Si, si asi!” He groaned as you went faster and faster on his cock. You were grabbed onto his shoulder with one hand, and your other pulled at his hair, gently snaking up from behind his neck. He smirked as you were being very vocal through moans but no words. He may have just gotten out of surgery, but he needed this; he needed you and your ass. You had everything he wanted. He continued to praise you in Spanish. 

“Me vengo!” You moaned. He loved you using the Spanish that he taught you. He placed his lips on your neck and began to suck as he took over, fucking your ass. You were clearly slowing down, and he would continue as you shook. Your orgasm hit you hard, and he cared very little, his cock ramming into your ass, your arms holding onto him weakly. “So much…” You moaned, but you were nothing but a mess, moaning and crying out loud. He loved the noise you made. It was clear you were perfect for him. He eventually felt himself get closer and closer, ramming harsher into your ass until he came inside your ass. You let out one last sigh of pleasure as you fell on him weakly.

“I need to teach you more Spanish words.” He pulled out of you, and he helped you off him as you leaked his cum, and he kissed your neck. “Estoy cansado y tu.” You nodded, and he was still weak from his surgery, but he sat there, hugging you tightly and brushing your hair with his hands.

[poorly-written-fiction]

talking in your sleep || logan howlett x reader

part 2 for anyone interested

A/N: hello i threw something together very quickly inspired by "talking in your sleep" by the romantics! also reader is gender neutral (i'm pretty sure i was good to not use any gendered language??? one mention of they/them pronouns) no use of Y/N or any specific descriptions of you, the reader, aside from logan being taller than you. unrelated to this fic, but "replay" is continuing and i am already working on my next long fic after it is done! next chapter of "replay" goes live tomorrow.

summary: you make it a point to not interact with logan, but he finds an interesting excuse to talk to you.

notes: somewhat suggestive themes, proceed with caution

No one could understand what your problem was with Logan. He’d walk into a room, and if you weren’t immediately turning on your heels and leaving, you suddenly became a brick wall. You would watch him, tracking his every move. He’d notice you watching him, and you’d roll your eyes and turn away. Everyone knew he wasn’t easy to get along with, but the way that you would change the moment he was in the same vicinity, it seemed like he had murdered your family. Your friends would ask “have you talked to him?” and you’d reply with a very short, sharp “no.” Everyone at the mansion was stumped, what was it about Logan that bugged you? Scott had asked Jean if she would get into your head and check, to which she’d reply, “And risk them treating me the same way? Absolutely not.” They didn’t dare to ask Charles if he would do the same. He wouldn’t, simply out of respect for your privacy. It was a mystery to everyone, but it didn’t bother anyone more than Logan himself. He would never admit it, but he was genuinely concerned that he had hurt you in some way and wasn’t aware of it. He even knew he was a dick, even on a good day, but he had no real reason to dislike you directly. You iced him out first, and he gave up trying to fix anything after you would constantly shut him down. The closest he could get to you was that his bedroom was right next to yours.

Your sleep schedules were drastically different, you often fell asleep before he did. Based on how closely he could hear your breathing when you slept, he could only imagine that your bed and his shared a wall. He didn’t actively listen to you, but he couldn’t help that he had heightened senses. He could hear you turning over in your sleep, occasionally groaning or mumbling. He had learned pretty early that you tended to talk in your sleep. Never anything super coherent or interesting. Usually only a few words, or a sentence that didn’t make any sense. Occasionally he’d hear you say something funny and he’d chuckle to himself. He silently wished he could have a real conversation with you. He had heard that you were easy to talk to. What had he done to make you push him away? 

One night, Logan was sitting in his bed, reading a book and sipping on some whiskey. He didn’t always spend his evenings like this, but occasionally he would indulge himself in some peace. Stop thinking about the world and all of its problems, and let himself enjoy life’s simple pleasures. He was working his way through “And Then There Were None” by Agatha Christie when he heard you stirring in your sleep. He paid the sound no mind until he heard something familiar.

“Logan…”

He perked up immediately, setting his book and glass down on his bedside table. He sat in complete silence, his breathing slow and quiet waiting to see if he could hear it again.

“I want you, Logan…”

He practically jumped out of his bed. What were you dreaming about? Him, obviously, but what was going through that head of yours? He was dying to know. He hoped that you thought better of him in your sleep. There was the sound of shifting and rolling over in your bed, and then the stillness and quiet again. Your breathing still sounded like you were asleep, otherwise, he would have gone and knocked on your door. He thought about it for a moment, confronting you at your bedroom door tomorrow morning.

The idea became reality. Logan could hear you going about your morning routine, and he did the same, taking extra care to make himself look a little nicer than usual. He wanted answers out of you, and he wanted to look good doing it. He heard you walking towards your bedroom door, and he practically ran into the hallway, leaning over your doorway as you were walking out. You gasped immediately when you saw him towering over you.

“Good morning, how did you sleep?” You were at a loss for words, completely taken aback by the situation. Logan smiled, “Did you have any nice dreams?” With those words, heat was rushing from your chest and rising into your neck and face. He had you caught.

[fan-goddess]

I wish you would write a fic where...Aemond forces a lady at court to marry him because she used to bully him when she was young, and he wants revenge. But the sexy kind lol

Authors Note: Oh my god I love thatttttt honestly I should write for a more darker Aemond tbh don’t know why I don’t. This is less bully more torment still I hope you like it

Warnings: angst, bullies, revenge, dark!aemond, mentions of rape, not direct consent, simp!Aemond, hinted at smut but none written, (if I miss any let me know!)

Taglist: @humanpurposes @watercolorskyy @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee

When Aemond first laid his eyes on the daughter of Ser Tywin Lannister, he had no idea of the thorns that lay hidden beneath the beautiful rose.

He would find himself staring at you whenever he could, but to his disappointment, like everyone else before you, you chose to spend your time with Aegon and his little duo of puppies that were his nephews.

When he trained with Ser Criston in the training yard whilst you sat in the crowd, he worked hard to try and ensure your attention. Though everytime he looked at you, your eyes never left his brother.

After training one day, Aemond left feeling dejected due to your unspoken rejection, and walked with his head held low to the familiar route of the library. He tried to take his mind off you with some old texts on ancient Valyria before the doom, and yet with every minute Aemond tries to concentrate on his studies he found himself thinking only of you.

It’s something he found himself doing a lot recently since the discovery of your existence. He thinks of your hair and how soft it must be to feel through his fingertips. He thinks of your eyes and how pretty they look whenever he catches your eye. He thinks about how loving your soul is and the warmth your kindness would be to feel against his skin.

Aemond has never felt like he had the soul of a poet, and yet one afternoon he finds himself writing about your beauty on some paper with a quill that had been previously left at the table he sat on.

To my lady sun,

How does it feel to know that your beauty radiates more than the sun, and to be its only envy? I am sure it is grateful for night so that it is not forced to compare to you, and yet even then the jealousy does not sleep, for now the moon must be forced to bear witness to your glowing skin.

Your body is a temple handcrafted by the gods, and I am sure they watch in anticipation for their greatest creation to walk amongst its divergent brethren. With how your head remains high, I am sure you must be aware of your own greatness. So no doubt these words seem meaningless. Yet I hope they spark something within you still.

With care,

a simple worshiper

It wasn’t very good, but then again, Aemond never expected to sound like the greatest poet of the seven kingdoms. He never expected anyone to read his letters ever. But of course, Aegon went snooping and found something that didn’t belong to him that he felt entitled to take.

“Did you really think she would love you?!” Aegon laughed, dangling one of the pieces of paper before Aemond while he tried desperately to grab it before you came and saw it.

“Why would she want a dragon less twat like you when she could have me?”

“What’s going on?” A very familiar voice spoke, a horror filled jolt going down Aemonds spine as he turned to confirm his horror. Lady Lannister stood there as beautiful as ever with your brow furrowed in adorable confusion, and your eyes trained on the paper still in Aegons greasy grasp.

“My little brothers turned into a poet my lady! Just look at what he’s had to say about you!” Aegon laughs while Aemond once more tries desperately to stop him. But with just a simple shove to the floor Aemond is weak and helpless as you take the paper in hand and begin to read.

And when you finish, Aemond feels his heart shatter into a thousand pieces as you begin to laugh at him.

“Did you think I would thank you?” You begin, that once delicate smile turned poisonous as you slowly make your way over to him still laying where he fell. “You were right about one think little Prince. These words are meaningless. But they’re especially so coming from a boy like you. Still, I must thank you for this little Prince, as at least I’ll have something to laugh at when I’m bored.”

Aemond feels the tears brim against his eyes and for the first time since falling he gets the strength to stand and run away. The sound of yours and Aegons cruel laughter echoing through his mind as he does, with a vow of revenge brewing behind it.

“My Prince regent, with this new position, there is a matter of marriage I must bring forward.” Lord Wylde begins, an edge to his voice as he knows the delicacy behind it all.

It’s been years since the embarrassment of his writings, and yet Aegon and you as well had made sure to bring it up almost everyday before you traveled back home. Whether that is by a memorised line from one of the pages or with seemingly innocent words with hidden meanings and a not so hidden smirk, Aegon and you had deployed them all to make Aemonds life miserable.

Aegon continued though long after you went away, and Aemond supposes that’s what made the act of burning him all that sweeter. To know the taste of revenge against one of the ones who hurt him was as sweet as honey against his bitter tongue.

“Borros Baratheon has four unwed daughters who-“

“I have made my decision already in who I should have by my side as my wife my lord.” Aemond interrupts, a ghost of a smile on his face as he thinks of the lady in question and watches the lords at the table furrow their brows. My my how fun was it to watch the rats fumble like a puppet show.

“And who is this lady my prince regent?”

Aemond smirks at Ser Tyland, who sits there unaware of what is about to occur to his family.

“I intend to marry your very own niece Ser Tywin. The young, and I am correct in presuming still unmarried, lady Lannister.”

Silence radiates through the council room as all attempt to process the news Aemond has just released to them, while Aemond himself is just sitting there like the dragon who ate the hatchling.

“My Prince regent, I-it is an honour!” The man stutters out, knowing if he didn’t say anything it would be much more worse for him.

“As it should be Ser Tyland. Tis an honour to be wed to a member of house Targaryen. I trust you to be the man to call for your niece, but please, do not tell her the reasoning. I wish for it to be a surprise that I myself shall tell her, if you would do be the honour?”

“Of course my Prince. I shall write to her soon as we finish this meeting and request for her to arrive the beginning of the next week.”

Aemond would’ve preferred her to arrive on the morrow, but he supposed he shouldn’t be too picky. You’re coming back to him. That’s what he chooses to focus on.

The rest of the week though he waits in anticipation for your arrival. He thinks of you constantly, but unlike him as a boy, he doesn’t write these thoughts down on a paper. At least Aegon can’t steal his thoughts.

Aemond though must confess he is anxious about seeing you. The last time he had, you’d embarrassed him and made him feel worthless. But now, he is no longer that scared little boy who you tormented. Now, he is the Prince Regent of the seven kingdoms. And he has the power to take what he wants and do what he wants.

And what he wants is to take you. He has a plan on what he wants to do, and he thinks of it every day since that council meeting.

Aemond Targaryen wants to defile you and leave you with nothing. Perhaps he’ll even force you to be married to some old lord who’ll use you for a boy or two. Or send you to the citadel and make you become a septa. It all depends on how he feels at the moment he supposes.

Yet on that first day of the new week when he’s standing in the courtyard and seeing your golden carriage pull up, sick anticipation curls and builds in his gut like a fearsome storm.

“Little prince?” You say as you get out of the carriage, sending Aemonds inner storm into an all out raging war.

“That is Prince regent to you little lion.” He snaps, relishing in the way you frown at his words.

“Where is my uncle? In his letter he said it was of upmost importance and to come with haste to Kingslanding today.”

“Ah yes little lion I know of the letter he had delivered to you. I was the one who requested it to be sent. Let us go somewhere more private so we can discuss it.” Aemond purrs, walking forward so he can get his hand on your lower back and lead you into the keep.

You do not protest to his sudden demands, yet still he finds humour in your confusion still.

Aemond as he walks makes sure that servants and ladies alike see him leading you to a room with no chaperone. Or more specifically, see him leading you to a room with a bed.

“What is it you wish to tell me, my Prince regent?” You ask, emphasising the title just to tease him for sure.

“I wish to congratulate you my lady!” He smirks, watching your face further contort in confusion.

“Congratulate me? Congratulate me on what?”

“On your marriage my little lion of course.” Aemond finally reveals. He watches your face turn in its final form, and he’s delighted to know your fire has not been yet destroyed when fury takes over your entire body.

“Who?” You demand.

“It’s me.” Aemond simply says, watching with even further delight what that once dragonlike flame instantly vanish for cold hard horror.

“You?”

“Yes. And I shall take my wedding present now I think. I believe it is what I deserve for what you did to me all those years ago.” As he speaks, Aemond begins to slowly prowl towards you like a predator stalking its prey towards the bed.

“That was years ago!” You shout, looking at him in shock.

“And yet I never forgot what you said.” He simply says, pushing you backwards so with a yell you fall backwards on the bed and look at him with fear in your eyes.

Good, he thinks, you should be scared right now.

He wants to make the oh so proud Lannister she lion be reduced to a mere mewling kitten, and all by his hand alone.

“I suppose I must ask,” he begins, leaning forward and forcing your body to be pressed against his own. “Have you had anyone touch you? Just by looking at you I can think your maidenhead has been given to some poor impressionable lad thinking only with his cock.”

You stay silent initially, but he has ways of making you talk. Including but not limiting to him using his dagger that was strapped to his side to tear your dress from your body.

“Just a stable boy…” You finally confess, gasping as Aemond moves to firmly grip at your upper thighs with a growl on his own lips once he forces the delicate fabric away to reveal you to him.

“Tell me his name.” Aemond demands, his singular eye firm as he forces you to look at him. “I shall rip off his hands and his cock myself for dare touching what is rightfully mine to claim. For what was meant to be taken by me all those years ago.”

“Are you saying you’ve thought of me?” You attempt to tease, only realising your mistake when he answers with a serious tone.

“Of course. I have thought of this moment endlessly. The idea of me ruining you for all has always delighted me, just as much as the idea of actually fucking you does to me.”

And with that, whether you called for him to stop or keep going, he continued with his plan. He ravished you senseless committing the sound of your voice to memory. The guards outside he had posted in order to bear witness to your taking also most likely memorised them, but he’s comforted by the fact he’s going to kill them by the end of the week.

His mother yells at him later that day about how selfish he’s been and how much like Aegon he is being. But the thought comforts him when he thinks of what Aegon had and what he now possesses.

The crown. The people. The power.

He has it all and he’s able to throw it away at the drop of a hat.

From what Aemond has heard, after he had announced to the entire court he would not be marrying you due to your broken maidenhead, you were condemned back to casterly rock and are being prepared for a marriage to a lord from the stormlands named Riordan Rael.

Form what he has been told, Lord Rae is an elderly man long since due for a meeting with the stranger who has yet to father any children from his other past seven wives that have all tragically died young.

Aemond does not care for you anymore now that his revenge has been thoroughly completed. Even if he has had several letters in the last moon detailing the fact you had given birth nearly two months early to a babe with hair as pearly as the moon.

For the power is all his, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Not unless they want to be put to his sword and taste his Valyrian steel.

[beauty-and-passion]

Why you should listen to Chonny's Charming Chaos Compendium

I didn't expect to truly write a post about this album.

Anons introduced me to its genesis, production and themes and they seemed interesting... but was there enough food for thought?

I had no idea. My expectations were positive, so I imagined I would listen to something good: I just didn't know if this album had enough for me to talk about and say something new - considering that the CCCC fans already did a great job analyzing every detail of the songs.

But when I listened to them (and read more theories/explanations), I noticed some interesting things. Things that stirred my brain and made me think. Things I wanted to talk about.

So here I am, writing a post about Chonny's Charming Chaos Compendium Volume 1. I am not pretending to explain the lore or the songs in detail and I don't want to bother you with an extremely long post. All I want is to give you some material to decide if CCCC is worth a try.

And, if you've never heard about it before, I hope my words will spark your interest, because this album deserves more attention.

One last thing: please be aware I will talk about all sorts of themes, from love to suicide, because those are also the themes of the album.

_______________________________

A simple plot

I can hear you, fans who have listened to the whole album: simple story?! It's complicated! It's open to interpretations!

And yes, you're right. But if we consider the core foundation on which the songs are built... well, that's quite straightforward. With this album, Chonny Jash is telling us about his struggles and how they led to a psychological split inside him into Mind, Heart and Soul. Then these three parts start fighting, until they find a way to reunite again.

And yes, we can also add that this is a time loop and things are destined to repeat themselves, but the structure is still simple, clear and concise. As clear as the tripartition of the album into Calamity, Cacophony and Concord, three parts that correspond to the story's three main points: the split, the fight, the reunion.

And this simplicity isn't a bad thing, oh absolutely not. This is perfect.

There's a common misconception that a good story should be complicated. The plot should be complex and convoluted and the more complex and convoluted it is, the better the story will be. I made this conceptual mistake too and it took me years to realize how wrong it was: the better stories are not the most complicated ones, but the simpler ones.

Why?, you may ask. Isn't a simple story proof of amateur writing - or even worse, lack of creativity?

Actually, it's quite the opposite and there are four reasons why:

If a story has a simple, clear foundation, it will be easier to build on it: a simple foundation is stable and strong, it won't break down too easily. You can add layers and metaphors and hide your plot points behind different interpretations, but your public won't get lost, because the foundation would still be clear: there are three figures, they fight, they reunite. Everyone can understand it.

If everyone can understand your foundation, your story is universal. Everyone can approach and experience it, from an old person to a child, and everyone will find something inside: a message, a feeling, a piece of advice, anything.

If your story is universal and the foundation clear, your vision is also clear. And if your vision is clear, you know what you're doing. And if you know what you're doing, your story will be much more organized too: there won't be dull/useless parts, filler, or moments in which you're just dilly-dallying, waiting for the right idea to strike.

Since your story will be more organized, the flow will be better too and the events will make sense, the public will be more prone to welcome the suspension of disbelief and immerse themselves in the story. People aren't stupid, they can subconsciously feel when an artist is confident and the story is strong. And once they feel it, you win. The public is yours now, you can guide it into your world and show your vision as you intended. And people will let you do it, because they know they're in good hands.

This is what I experienced too, the more I progressed with my listening. There was a lot of care behind every word, the lyrics kept explaining and expanding the plot and everything showed the confidence of an author who knows what he is doing and how to do it.

And there's nothing better for a story, than a confident author.

_______________________________

Clear elements despite the ambiguity

Even if the foundation of CCCC is very simple, the story is enriched by a ton of ambiguities and things purposely left very vague. They may be better explained when/if Volume 2 comes out in the future, they may be left open to interpretation forever. It doesn't really matter: having a full understanding is good, but leaving everything behind a veil of mystery is a good choice as well. It depends on Mr. Jash's choice - and if my previous point wasn't clear enough, I trust this guy's choices.

However, despite the ambiguity, I also really appreciated how there are a lot of extremely clear elements in this story, starting from some events, to specific details of the main characters involved.

Some examples?

Heart tried to shoot/kill/destroy Mind

Heart's breakdown is due to something love-related

The whole series of events is stuck in a loop

Mr. Jash threatens suicide if the parts of himself don't reconcile

Mr. Jash frequently talks about how he keeps making covers of songs others made before him

And what about the details? For example, we know that every character has a specific set of elements associated with them:

an object: a blindfold (Heart), a crown (Mind), a trident (Soul)

a name: Artemis/the moon/Juno (Heart), Apollo/the sun (Mind), Atlas (Soul)

a color: black+purple (Heart), blue+white (Mind), gray+red (Soul)

And those are all elements we get from the songs and they get stuck with you, while you progress with your listening.

Again, this is a very clever choice: considering everything is open to interpretation, having some clear elements serves as "anchor points" in a sea of ambiguities. By doing that, the listeners won't get lost in a maelstrom of possibilities, but they will keep being guided down a clear path - the one traced by the main points of the album (breakdown, fight, reunion).

Also, having some fixed elements keeps everyone's attention too: some people might like to get lost in pure ambiguity, but most lose interest in a too-vague story. Even if the author had a clear plan, if everything is too obscure, people will inevitably think: "It's incomprehensible, so the author had no idea what they were doing" and ditch the story entirely.

Mr. Jash handled the ambiguity aspect very well, by balancing the obscurities with the clear elements. And this proved, once again, how clear, strong and detailed his vision is.

_______________________________

Favorite character?

Ooof, that's hard.

Each character has a specific personality and that alone proves how carefully Mr. Jash planned every element related to them.

Heart is sad, desperate, apathetic, prone to self-pity, sick and tired of everything. But he's also strong enough to try and oppose Mind out of fear of what he could do. He tried to attack someone as powerful as him and take him down, just to preserve the Soul and save their vessel.

And that proves he's not weak at all: he's a lot more powerful than he seems. And, as he said, he's not a child: he felt Mind could've been a threat, so he took the matter into his own hands and tried to find a solution.

And it makes sense his solution was so drastic, because it was dictated by feelings. Because the Heart is influenced by feelings. It's perfectly coherent with the kind of character he is.

Same goes for Mind: he's cold, harsh, a threatening figure because of his design/nature. He takes control of the situation, he appoints himself as the new leader, he wants to react, do something, move forward and ignore the element he sees as the weak link.

And he definitely doesn't hold a grudge towards Heart, nope nope: my bro spent a whole song saying "Look at Heart, he's an idiot". And then, if this isn't enough, he ended his song, by calling Heart "akaryocyte": which is a cell without a nucleus. Hence, a virus.

I'll admit it: this sick burn is the sickest burn that ever burned and probably the most clever insult I've ever read and that made Mind top #1 best character of the album - sorry Heart, but Mind is too sick. (Also, I am a cold logical person too, so I ended up thinking the guy wasn't so bad after all.)

Last but not least, we have Soul. And Soul is basically shut down all the time by these two motherfuckers arguing, to the point he looks more like a shadow, rather than a real character... until he decides that you know what, time to show how confident he actually is:

You must be so arrogant to think that either of you Can control The Soul so wholly When to be one whole you can't hold solely

One song was enough to show Soul's true colors. He's stronger than the other two, he's more in control than them and he's the only one able to draw a line and make an actual threat: if they do not find a way to reunite, he will kill them both.

A couple words and Soul's picture got flipped: he's not just a background voice anymore, he's the leading figure now. And if he is sick and tired, then these three are facing the real shit.

But just like the other two, Soul isn't just that and we see it in The Bidding.

Here happens something incredibly beautiful: once Heart and Mind find a way to harmonize, Soul immediately rejoices: with the impatience of a child, he asks them to do it again, "One more time, go again/No, this can't be the end". Soul, this powerful figure who threatened suicide one second ago, begs them to try again, to do it "for me", because they can finally harmonize, because "I don't know how much more I can take".

Once again, with a couple sentences, we learn how heavy this whole situation has been on Soul and how eager he is to try again, once the other two find a possible harmony.

This doesn't just show how deeply Soul has been affected by the whole situation, but also (on a higher level) how strong hope is.

Soul was ready to commit suicide: a few verses before he said this was the day "we'll tie the rope". But one small step in the right direction, despite being flawed and made out of spite and resentment, was all he needed to change his mind and drop the idea of suicide entirely.

That also proves how human Soul is. Because this is what humans feel too, especially when they play with the idea of suicide. Most of the time, this idea is the result of desperation and inability to find a way out of a situation that seems impossible to overcome. But once these people find even a teeny tiny fragment of hope, the will to live overcomes desperation and people latch to said hope, no matter how small it is. And, just like Soul did here, they try to have it again, to repeat it, to feel that spark again.

Because the will to live is always much, much stronger than the desperation that leads to suicide.

_______________________________

The choice of a time loop

These three characters are stuck in a time loop: things are destined to repeat themselves. And believe it or not, but this is extremely human too - and a clever choice as well.

From a psychological perspective, Mr. Jash can "break" again anytime. Life is full of stuff and events, so... who knows? Maybe in the future, he will face another heartbreak and his Whole will break down into three once more. Or maybe it won't be because of a heartbreak: maybe something else will happen and lead to a new split, a new fight and a new reconciliation. Maybe even the lack of confidence that starts to shine in Concord is proof of a future split.

But if we think about it, the time loop works from another perspective too: a meta one.

Every time you listen to the whole album, every time to replay the songs, you are relieving the split. Every time you listen to them, Whole splits into Heart, Mind and Soul. Every time you trace their history, they split, fight and reconcile.

In other words: every replay is a new loop, a loop in which these characters are stuck - not just because of their humanity, but because they're characters and this is their story. They cannot escape from it, because that's their entire world.

I don't know if Mr. Jash thought about that while making this album... but he gave me this thought and that's just another proof of what I said at the beginning of this post: if a story is very well made, everyone can find a message inside it. And I'm sure you will find something too.

EDIT: You will find the whole analysis of CCCC Vol. 1 starting from HERE

(How about a coffee? ☕)

_______________________________

TAGLIST:

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[astarionancuntnin]

here's my masterlist with everything i've written! note that:

all fics are explicit and astarion x fem!reader unless specified

series and multichapter fics have their masterlist linked with all chapters and ao3 links

one-shots/requests will have their main theme mentioned in parentheses next to the title, and the full lists of content warnings are available on their linked post/ao3 page

speaking of, my requests are CLOSED (taking some time for myself after getting sick)

- i am more comfortable writing astarion (spawn or ascended) and halsin, but im open to get out of my comfort zone and write other characters! - i write in third or second POV (more experienced with x reader/tav) - comfortable with most types of writing (fluff, smut, angst, hurt/comfort) - i am willing to go extremely dark and kinky (basically ask and if its above my limit ill tell you, but if ive already written about it, im cool with it) - send an ask and ill get started on it! (i am quite busy recently, but i promise to get around to your request sooner rather than later)

fics are posted in chronological order of creation

this list will keep getting updated as i upload more

full list below the cut!

Series

she was a wildfire that couldn't be tamed; he was the night star admiring her ruthless dance

Undisclosed Desires (Denial of feelings, rivals to lovers) (part 1)

Masterlist

astarion and you, along with your other companions, have been traveling together for a few weeks now. he gets on your nerves at least once a day. but as much as you hate to admit it, your late night activites are plagued by him. little do you know, hes aware of the effect he has on you and intends to use that to his advantage.

Bad Blood (Mature, Angst, follow up fic to Undisclosed Desires, Astarion POV) (part 2)

Masterlist (not posted yet)

it was meant to be a nice, simple plan. get the sorceress to fall in love with him to assure his safety. what he didn't plan was to fall for her as well, and all the complications that came along with it.

A Lesson in Taming Your Dark Consort

(all fics in this series are one-shots that surround the dynamic between Ascended Astarion and his consort Malva (my oc evil tav), heavily BDSM driven)

Taming a Tempest (spanking, semi-public sex)

oh, to be the Vampire Ascendant's dark consort. to have eternity and enhanced powers right at her finger tips - only to be denied. but two could play this game, and Malva would make Astarion regret witholding anything from her.

read on ao3

read on tumblr

Dancing on the Edge of a Knife (knife play, orgasm denial)

ever since his ascension, Malva was convinced that Astarion was the only person who could understand her every twisted desire. well, almost. there are some things she still keeps to herself, he simply wouldn't understand this part of her, the one who dances on the very edge of her knife.

read on ao3

read on tumblr

Long Fics

Die For You (Lovers to Enemies to Lovers, Ascended Astarion) Completed work!

contains some Shadowheart x fem!reader

Masterlist

the ascension changed the person Astarion was, or so you believed. you broke up and parted ways after defeating the netherbrain, thinking it was for the best, but when you see him again 6 months later at the reunion, you realize you never truly moved on. and neither did he.

One-Shots (including requests)

Meet Me In The Woods (predator/prey)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

it's astarion's turn to keep watch for the night. everyone's off to bed and he's still gone hunting and nowhere to be seen. you refuse to be the one to fill in for him again, so you venture into the woods looking for where he was last seen.

Midnight's Embrace (weed, polyamory)

astarion x female!reader x halsin

read on ao3

read on tumblr

you can’t recall the last time you had a real, good night of sleep. your fight with the nether brain is approaching fast and your anxiety is only increasing. halsin proposes to try a special brand of herbs to alleviate your mind. turns out this herb also awoke something else in you.

Nothing But A Dream (somnophilia)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

you've agreed to take things slow with astarion, only partaking in nighttime activities when he specifically desires them, and this morning, he wants you. but he would hate to intrude on your precious beauty sleep.

Run, Little Fox (predator/prey, hate sex, mildly dubious consent)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

this brat of a rogue questioned your leadership one time too many, it is time he learns his place, and youll do it the only way he'll listen to you: with a challenge. if you win, he will be held accountable for his actions, but if he wins, he gets to use you every night. it doesn't matter anyway, you'll win... won't you?

Public Display of Affection (A!A, jealousy, semi-public/loud sex, hints of voyeurism feat. Gale)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

his consort - his beautiful, too kind for her own good - forever young lover. she was his, and his only, and he believed it was long overdue to make that statement clear among the rest of their group. after tonight, the only name spiling from her luscious lips would be his.

Death is Not an Escape (Mature, Dead By Daylight AU, heavy angst)

read on ao3

read on tumblr

it wasn't supposed to end like this, they were supposed to get out and defeat the absolute - together. but as a dark fog swallowed them whole, their fates changed drastically.

[mxdarling]

[“I can’t live without you. I would lose it!”]

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

ೃ⁀➷: summary: you're a rule-breaker and you tried resisting him, keyword: tried.

ೃ⁀➷: Word count: 1130

ೃ⁀➷: Reference/Inspiration: N/A

ೃ⁀➷: Event: [200 followers event]

[note:] If there is anything else triggering here that I didn’t list in the warnings section, please tell me. I don’t condone this type of behavior, this is merely just for entertaining purposes and some sort of coping mechanism for me. If you continue to read beyond this point, ignoring my warnings, I am not responsible for your actions from here on out.

[Warnings:] bad oneshot, maybe ooc riddle, after overblot riddle, yandere behavior, slight controlling behavior, unintentionally guilt-tripping, reader is a rule-breaker, reader is insecure, tiny fluff, tiny angst, cursing ("ass" & "fucking"), mentions of an argument.

[GN reader]

RIDDLE ROSEHEART is a strict ruler, a top student, a perfectionist—any other adjective to describe him that wasn't romantic. Even after the overblot incident, it was difficult to imagine anyone liking him with the traits he carried around the campus; it was even more difficult to imagine him, THE riddle roseheart, liking someone else. Especially if that someone is you—an infamous first-year rule-breaker who hangs out with deuce, ace, and grim—and what's even better, they aren't capable of casting a single spell. A bizarre pair was commented on by most of the students and a few of the teachers and staff. A top student, like riddle, who is almost perfect in every aspect of his life, with someone like you who could care less about upholding simple rules and regulations.

No one believed when deuce, ace and grim said, "riddle and prefect are dating!" and "our teapot tyrant is dating our prefect!! can you believe it!?" Yet when heartslabyul students started seeing their dorm leader and you together more often, the dots were starting to connect, and soon enough, almost everyone knew you two were dating. The teasing went up rapidly (by a certain person in octavinelle, who's also 188cm eel), especially towards riddle, not that it offended him, but it would leave him with a tomato face frequently during the day.

Dating riddle was not a journey you would have thought you would ever experience. It was cute the way he would get shy around showing affection towards you in public—the slight brush of his hand hitting yours, the tints of pink on his cheeks, the (not so) sneaky glances he gives to you when he thinks you're not looking. The obvious blush you see when you catch him staring at you red-handed. Everyone can tell you two will have heart eyes whenever the other is near. You can hear the coo's and ew's from your fellow peers, yet you pay no attention to them as riddle takes all your attention for himself. Whether he's aware of that or not, you don't complain; you could never complain when it came to him.

Yet, of course, all relationships have their fights and disagreements. Most of them would be about you, your rule-breaking habits, and how you don't care enough about your studies. How you don't seem to care that you would fail your classes if your current grades keep up like this. It's at these times that you can clearly feel his disappointment in you. It's these times where you can't help but feel like he can do so much better than you, wondering why he even settled for you in the first place. It's these times where you can see riddle trying to change and not let his old habits slip in again. He's trying, and you can see that all his hardest efforts are never unnoticed by you.

As sweet as the relationship you two shared was, somehow its flavor turned slightly bitter. It was starting to get draining, draining, and draining. Each day, a riddle will ask you to do something or wear something for him, and you do it in a heartbeat! The way he started to slowly change your schedule to match his, the way he started to limit your free time with friends and activities. Spending less time inside your own dorm and more in riddle's bedroom. Gradually, you seem to know more about parts of a book than you do outdoors. It didn't bother you to sacrifice these little things for riddle. Doing little things and doing favors for him was never a bother to you—never at all—until it started getting way, way too much for you.

Here you are again, sitting in his bedroom. If you weren't returning to your dorm, you most likely would've forgotten what it looked like. The history book in front of you started to feel like hands dragging your head to its incredibly long text full of everything that you weren't going to try and digest. You want to throw away the book and do something without sitting your ass on the floor for more than 8 hours. You stand up, telling riddle you're leaving. Replying defensively, he tried to stop you, but, of course, being the natural rule-breaker you are, you resisted him. You aren't sure how exactly it happened, but what was supposed to be a little act of rebellion against his strict behavior turned into a full-blown argument. There were tears. You couldn't take this any longer than you had; you were at your breaking point, and you think now is a good time to fucking leave.

Stomping angrily towards the door, not even bothering to grab and bring your books with you, turning the knob to open the door to leave, or attempting to turn the knob, turns out it's locked. You scoff at his effort to keep you within his room before you could try and unlock the door and actually be able to turn the knob—you feel a pair of arms locking themselves around your stomach.

"Please, don't leave me," he says in a whisper, yet with the quiet atmosphere, you can hear what he says perfectly. Pleading, he's pleading... That's.. unusual. It's not like him to be pleading, yet knowing his home life, you should've known. Behind all that strict and commanding demeanor was a traumatized child wanting to play and have fun like other kids. He sounded so lost and so alone; he was trembling behind your back. His tears tainted the back of your shirt, and he tightened his grip around your stomach like a child not wanting their parents to leave for work. You are mad; you are so mad at him, acting like he was the one suffering in this relationship, yet something in you can't be mad at him.

In your head, your rational side advises you to leave. Leave him weeping at the entrance of his bedroom door as he watches you walk away from this exhausting relationship, away from this draining push and pull, and away from him and his emotional baggage. You want to leave; you need to leave. The door is right there in front of you, waiting for it to be opened, waiting for you to leave. Taking several glances at the door knob and your hand, you let your hand lose grip of the handle. You lost all the energy to try and leave, and frankly, giving up seemed like a good option for you. You could just sit back and let riddle take the lead. riddle wouldn't have to be alone during his toughest times because you would be there for him.

"Thank you.. thank you for not leaving... I can't live without you. I would lose it!"

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

[a/n; woah first yandere riddle work in this blog (as of now since i have another yandere riddle work that i have saved in my drafts) and i must say a very interesting character to write as a yandere, also another one i'm not quite familiar in yandere terms. also i was a little addicted to grinding on honkai star rail for my bronya built i've almost completed so this may have took a little while aha.. (though it's nothing new in this blog LMAOO) but thank you anon for requesting riddle with dialogue #39! terribly sorry for not doing azul i really only had motivation to finish riddle's part so for the sake of my sanity i just didn't write for azul, perhaps next time i will loll. (SORRY I'VE BEEN SO DEAD!!!)]

(edit: WHY AM I ONLY NOTICING THAT I WROTE RIDDLE WITH AZUL'S DIALOGUE??? omg i;m so sorry anon for this mistake....)

[twst-drabbles]

Jamil 15

Summary: You've had your fill of studying with Jamil. Now you just want to bother him a little bit. Embarrass him a little.

(So, I ended up relapsing back into my sugar addiction, which has obviously caused my writing high to vanish. So! I am trying to limit my intake once again. It will be a painful journey.)

It wasn't anything too tough, what you asked of Jamil. It was nothing more than just a review on what is the basic of basics, things that little kids and other young ones would know by heart without having to think too deeply on it.

"Quit with the judging silence, Jamil," you said when that look of exasperation briefly crossed his face, "did you forget? I'm not from here. Born in a world of exactly zero magic. Not hidden. Nothing."

You were being a bit rude at the time but you couldn't help it. Everyone around you constantly forgets this fact about you. Whenever you end up flubbing up a simple question that apparently everyone else could answer, your little group of first years either snort, actively laugh out loud, or baby you like you weren't a full adult.

So you figured, with all the approachable and semi-approachable people you knew, you may as well ask Jamil to teach you all about the basics. At least he'll have the sense to keep his frustrations with you inside himself once he figures out just how little you knew.

You were more than ready for him to reject you on the spot and say things regarding his chores and duties to Kalim. For that case, you were ready to just ask if he could write down some notes for the questions you had written down. A sort of pen pal situation.

But, to your pleasant surprise, Jamil nodded then texted you the details later of when the first tutoring session will be.

And so here you are in Jamil's room, sitting on the floor, doodling and highlighting away as you're being told how these magical gems form, how they interact with magic, how they help beyond just collecting that noxious blot, along with subjects beyond that.

"And this is where the equations come in," Jamil leaned down and tapped at the various magical sequences you wrote down to remember later, "See, magic is very tied into the imagination of its user, however, imagination as we know it isn't enough to truly draw out all of its potential. Think of it as, imagination being a basic soup broth, and magical equations are the spices that go into it. Magic itself would then be the taste of that dish."

You've been tapping your pen against your knee for the later half of the hour. It's interesting stuff, you won't lie. It's all easy to understand at least, but you can't help the boredom that crawls up after studying for over two hours already. You're very sure Jamil isn't aware of the time, simply caught up in his relaying of knowledge as you continue to absorb it.

Kind of strange to you, honestly. You'd think Jamil would be aware of it considering how he acts and deals with Kalim. Perhaps he's enjoying himself too much, being your tutor?

You look to his face, then see that were was weight to that little theory. Jamil was leaning forward, his own pen in hand as he scribbled down his own little notes in your journal, drawing arrows this way and that to help guide your eyes when you eventually need to look back upon it.

He didn't even notice how into your personal space he was. You could sigh and your breath would brush his hair.

You waited, just because you wanted to see if he would notice. But no, he didn't. He continued to scoot closer, adding in even smaller notes as he goes down the rabbit hole of basic information being broken down into even more basic part.

"Jamil." You leaned against your hand.

You can see the way his thoughts swirled to a stop. "Hmm? What is it? Did I lose you somewhere?"

"Nope," you lightly chuckled out, "Haven't you noticed? You're getting very cozy in my space. Practically sitting on my cushion."

Just to make your point known, you tapped your pinky against Jamil's own.

He blinked, looked down to your hand, to his legs leaning against your cushion, then to your face that was inches away from his own. He seized air into his lungs as he flung himself off. He scooted himself way farther than he needed to, would've probably hugged the wall if he didn't pride himself in his quick and near unbreakable composure. His face was pulled back in near horror at what he's done.

You laughed and leaned back on your palms. "Come on, I don't mind. Be as close as you want."

Jamil was quick, as always, to put himself back together. He smoothed down his hair, did some breathing exercises, then blurted out, "Let's take a small break before we continue. Please."

"Alright, alright," you waved. And Jamil fast walked right out of his own room.

Did you tease him too much? He was practically sweating under the collar. Couldn't even look you directly in the eye. If he can't handle this much teasing, you can only imagine how he'd be if you were to be merciless.

Well, hopefully you don't give him a heart attack.

[alpydk]

To @auroraesmeraldarose - I said I would write something romantic for you so here it is. With only a sprinkling of angst (because I just can't help it) - I present to you:

The List.

Romance/Angst/Mostly comfort (I hope) - 1397 words Gale x Tav (They/Them no description) - SFW

Gale had watched for some time how Tav had scribbled on the notepad before gazing into the campfire as if searching for the answers buried in the ashes. Their head would lift only to fall again, a word being written, then erased. It reminded him of his own days with a mostly drunk glass of red wine and a quill in hand, trying to come up with the next line of poetry that cause the lover to fall to their knees for him.

He slowly approached, his heart increasing its pace with the apprehension of what was to come. He enjoyed Tav’s company, always feeling he was learning something new. Being seen for who I am. Tav was a good person, one that had helped, listened to everyone, cared more than anyone he had ever met before, and despite the more pronounced ache he felt whenever he was near them, he fought through it for the quiet moments alone with them. He remembered the night channelling the weave, the way their hands had brushed up against one another, the way he had felt their longing, and the image of a tender kiss placed on his lips. Is this love? No, not for me. It can’t be.  

He swallowed nervously before he spoke. “My friend, may I ask what it is you are writing?”

Tav jumped a little, surprised by Gale’s sudden words, and placed the paper face down onto their lap. “This? Nothing… nothing at all.”

Gale nodded his head and took a small step back, trying not to acknowledge the feeling of rejection that was surfacing beneath his pleasant expression. “Ah, my apologies then. I will leave you to your thoughts.” He turned to go back to his tent as he heard the hesitant voice behind him.

“No…” Tav pushed their hair back and relaxed their shoulders. “Join me, please.”

Gale tried to hide his enthusiasm at this simple gesture. He was aware his year alone had made him too eager for basic conversation and he’d now got into a habit of remaining distant with people. Part of him was aware his social skills had diminished, and another part didn’t want him to form connections based on his own dwindling condition. He placed himself next to Tav, keeping a respectable distance and ignoring the dull thrum of the orb excited at the prospects.

Tav lowered their head, a soft smile masked by the focus of turning over the pages and looking at the cluttered mess on the paper. “I don’t think you would want to help me so much if you knew what it was I was writing.”

Gale placed a comforting hand on Tav’s arm, feeling the delicate cotton of the shirt under his palm. Warmth rose in his cheeks, and he silently cursed his body for betraying him. A glade of calm and tranquillity. “Well, let me be the one to decide upon that. As you know, I’m quite the connoisseur of the literary arts. Even Volo’s poetry has not turned me away from reading or writing.”

Tav chuckled at his response. “You know how tomorrow we are going to the Goblin Camp? There’s a real chance we might not…” They danced around the words, trying not to appear insensitive but ultimately giving up. “We might die.”

“Hm.” Gale understood perfectly why Tav was struggling and why they hadn’t initially wanted to discuss this with him. Talking about potential death with someone destined to die was not the easiest of conversations to have. How could they even relate to his situation? “So, you are writing your last wishes, I assume?”

Tav wordlessly handed over the paper and Gale held it towards the firelight, trying to make out the scrawl in front of him. The handwriting was unique to say the least, but the out of context words made it all even more peculiar. Stars…. Hollyphant…. Falling… “Tav, I may be able to decipher some of the most ancient of texts, but I must say, this has me baffled.”

Their voice was quiet as they replied, embarrassed by the list that lay between them. “It’s a bucket list.”

“But my dear, I have little doubt that you will survive the days to come. Why create something like this?” A small part of him felt heartbroken to even think of Tav’s death as imminent and yet a part of him was curious. What dreams lay in his friend’s mind? Could any of them ever hold a small place for me?

“I wish I had your optimism. No, I’m making it because all this-“ They gestured to their head, the tadpole writhing within. “-It just reminds me that life isn’t as long as it was before. That each day moments go by that I should have seized. From the big things, like travelling and love…” They looked over at him with a softness in their eyes that made him wish he could just kiss them there and then. “…To the little things, like watching the stars at night, or giving a gift to a friend.”

Gale looked curiously at the list, trying to make out more of the words. Falling in… “You’ve done none of these things before?”

Tav shook their head. “Time just seems to escape me. We have so few stars in the city and if I’m honest, I’ve never had many friends.”

“Hm, that I can unfortunately relate to. Might I offer a suggestion, though?” He moved closer to them, his heart thumping, his mind rushing through various scenarios over various outcomes. Kiss them. It’s too soon. Wind your fingers in between theirs. Hold them and never let go. Love them. Falling in love…

“And what might that be? Compare notes? I can assure you; my list will be longer and more pathetic.”

He placed his hand over theirs, trying to act casual and not bring attention to the vulnerable state he was putting his body in at this moment; the orb screaming into his system at the proximity of another person after so long. “No, my dear, let me have the list. Think of it as a gift, a puzzle that I can work on during the long nights. And from there, maybe I can assist you with the rest of your wishes.”

Tav smiled, scratching off a line from the paper. “I guess that makes it one wish fulfilled, then.”

Gazing at each other, they both seemed to become lost in one another’s eyes, an unknown energy pulling them together that neither wanted to fight against. Tav brought their hand to Gale’s face, both coming together wishing to make the previously imagined kiss a reality. He could feel the heat of Tav’s breath upon his lips, smell the earth and pine from their clothes, and in that moment, he wanted them. He wanted nothing more than to feel those lips upon his and lose himself in them.

It started with a pinching in his hand but slowly grew; the orb letting both be aware of its presence and Gale was forced to pull himself back, attempting to make his body relax from the tension. He looked at Tav, his deep brown eyes apologetic, a feeling as if he had been misleading them. I’m sorry for what I am.

Tav brought their hand away as Gale had flinched backwards in clear pain. “Are you okay?”

“Do not concern yourself with me. It’s just with my condition…” He sighed deeply, wishing it didn’t have to be this way.

“I understand.”

Tav pulled themselves close to him, so they were sitting shoulder to shoulder, still touching, but no longer as intimately. He gazed at them as they looked up towards the sky, and he traced the line of their neck up to their jaw, imagining gentle kisses being placed and their hair draped over his face as he nuzzled into them.

“I suppose this is another I can cross off already.”

Gale drew his attention from his friend, instead following their line-of-sight upwards. The sky was clear of clouds, allowing the stars to shine down on them brightly and they sat for some time in silence, enjoying the quiet moment together.

Eventually, sleep beckoned and Tav retired to their tent, leaving Gale alone under the night sky with his thoughts. I could create stars like this for you… I would become a star for you.

[copperbadge]

I contacted https://www.tumblr.com/support and they said:

 It sounds like your account may have been selected to experience a test of one of these improvements.   Thanks for your patience while we work on this! You may see your Tumblr experience return to normal as we continue testing.

So what I hear is that everyone should contact them who got that and say that it's bad so they change it back for us 'selected' folks.

Ah, thanks for the advice! I went to support and entered a perhaps aggressively simple ticket. Transcript follows; I've bolded my speech to set it apart from the responses.

Me: Please put my dash back the way it was.

Response: Hello, there.

We often test new ways to make Tumblr better. It sounds like your account may have been selected to experience a test of one of these improvements.

Thanks for your patience while we work on this! You may see your Tumblr experience return to normal as we continue testing.

We regularly collect feedback to pass along to our development teams. And while we may not implement all those suggestions, the discussion around them is what drives us to make great things.

If you'd like to start a conversation with us and the wider Tumblr community around your ideas and opinions, you can now send us an ask or submission on our Work in Progress blog: https://wip.tumblr.com

Me: How do I go about setting up my account to be unselected for this testing and all future testing?

Response: Hi again,

The testing is randomly selected, and only certain percentages of our users at a time.

There isn't a way to opt out of tests like this at this time, but that is definitely something you could submit as an idea to WIP!

Me: Is there literally nobody at Tumblr who can reset my dash back to its previous appearance?

Response: Yes, that's correct.

Since this is a test, this may go back to the original configuration, but it may also stay this way as the new experience.

All of us in support are unable to revert or alter these tests. The best way to be heard from our developers is feedback through that WIP blog.

Me: The WIP blog whose askbox won't be open again until next Monday. Useful. Thank you, you can close out this ticket.

As may or may not be evident, I was already having a shitty week and I find my dash currently almost impossible to look at or navigate. I wasn't aware I was nearing the end of my thermocline but apparently I am.

I've emptied my queue and I may not be here much for the next few days while I decide whether I want to be on tumblr at all. @wip here's that feedback support staff is so desperate for me to give you, since your askbox is open twelve hours a week.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Kissed by Moonlight (Alucard x Witch! Reader) 8

A/N: So sorry this chapter is coming so late into January. I hope everyone is doing well. Let's get this chapter rolling!

Summary: Love comes with many sacrifices.

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Follow the story on A03!

Chapter 8

He’s up all night as if consumed by grief all over again.

Adrian is familiar with the feeling, the ache within his chest, which devours him whole.

It stings in his body and mind when he rises with the sun, clouded and forgetting the previous night’s memories. He tells himself he will never be vulnerable with another, over and over, but his time spent with you draws that closeness he needs. He was craving more and more of your closeness and it grew easier and easier to feel it with you.

He was sure that if the consumption of wine continued, he would’ve done something he regretted, unravelling all the work to form an attachment and friendship that took so long to create.

It was the wine, he told himself. It causes anyone to do stupid things.

But it’s not the wine, he knows it. He knows it’s an excuse – a poor one to use when facing something far more lethal than a friendship on the line. He knew it had to be wrong, to put you in a position that made you downright uncomfortable, and the soft touches the two of you shared brought him far bigger feelings than he’d ever felt before.

It wasn’t far from trusting someone anyone, he knew it was something that could’ve been done long ago to betray him. And despite it, Adrian fears it could come any day, no matter how much his emotions grow.

He feels like a boy with a childish crush, not fully understanding the entire complexity of it all. It feels far more real than a simple crush: Adrian yearns for it, begs for its stay, to flourish and build into something much more. It’s a desire, a wish to anyone who would listen.

No, it would never happen. He told himself over and over again, cold in the bed as if there had been another beside him. It was far different to that fateful night, and the ghost of arms around him felt more tender than they had ever been. She is my friend, my closest friend.

Adrian had never felt colder.

When the sun reached his eyes, he squinted, as if its heat would finally put him out and catch him ablaze. Anything to end my misery. He wondered if more wine had been left, but it would’ve started a routine he dared not start again. Not with you around.

He said he would never return to that, not when you stayed.

“Oh, my God,” he whispered into the chill of the air, awareness hitting him like a blow to the face. If he was truly wanting to remain sober for you, something was deathly wrong. “I truly am becoming a Belmont.”

He rises with the rest of the day, telling himself he will apologise if you’re still stiff with him, but he will continue as if all the previous days had been the same. Nothing to hide, except for muddled emotions.

It’s the reminder to himself when he looked over the fireplace mantel, sitting cosy above with its pretty dark curls he made by uncoiling dark thread, and brown buttons for eyes, the skin tone as close to yours as possible, that he cannot have you finding this of all things.

-

“Are you ready?”

You draw your eyes over to the blond, readying a chestnut mare, the two of you standing in the castle stables. Adrian tells you that the town is not too far, it may take a bit longer to get back with such a large supply he hopes for. The castle’s food supply was dwindling, and Adrian kept a list of what needed to be restocked.

Adrian was kind in giving you some spare clothes, simply because you didn’t want to get your pretty dresses dirty: simple dark pants with a pair of riding boots, a dark green vest and a white tunic shirt that was too big and you had to cinch in with a belt. You also carried on you a small satchel, a cloak and gloves in case of the cold.

“Yes,” you shuffle closer to him, wary of the large beast in front of you, its beady black eyes staring right into your soul, “it’s a beautiful creature.”

“Indeed,” Adrian answers, soothing the horse by scratching just behind the back of its neck, behind its ears, “she is a gentle soul. She will not be frightened by you.”

You warily stare ‘her’ up and down, inquisitively, “What is her name?”

“Oh,” the Dhampir seems understandably abashed for not giving her one, “I did not think that far.”

“Really?” You stare between him and the beast, surprise blooming in your voice. It only makes sense for you to give her a name now! “How about… Lady? No, no—or maybe—”

“Luna?”

His voice catches you by surprise, but it is a wonderful idea. “Luna?”

“It’s a pretty name,” Adrian strokes her snout affectionately, “I like the other name too.”

“No, I like Luna more.” You follow with a guide of Adrian’s hand in knowing where to stroke Luna; just above her snout, his hands lingering longer than you both expected in this subtle affection before he pulls back. His touch still lingers, and it comforts you the size of his hand compared to yours.

“Shall we get going?”

“Indeed.”

It takes some minutes of humbling yourself to get onto a horse- with Adrian’s help- but you’re far more ashamed of how you embarrassed yourself in front of him. It’s not graceful how you straddle, the discomfort that comes from your legs so far apart and how you’re already dreading when it moves.

 Adrian is quicker than you, almost leaping on with ease as he sits behind you, his hands coming from behind to grab at the reigns.

“Easy,” you think he’s telling the horse to be at ease, but you realise it’s directed to you, his hands reassuring you, “You’re not going anywhere, little witch.”

You’re thankful he can’t see the way your face heats, the way you wish he would do what he said, but you have to stop those thoughts from occurring.

The laugh that comes from you is more of a wheeze, and you correct yourself before you can embarrass yourself further. “Are you talking to the horse or me, Adrian?”

Adrian chuckles lightly at your jab but knows it is all a tease. He guides the horse out from the stable, and almost immediately begins a sprint. The castle seems like a speck in the distance the further you travel, trees whipping past like shadows of figures you thought were human.

Animals could be heard within the trees as if they surrounded you, but instead of fear, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and across your face. You imagined this was what it felt like to be a bird, or the fastest horse free in a field. It was in some way what you imagined what a vampire felt like hidden and part of wildlife.

With the speed and wind on your side, you arrived in the town by the time the sun was highest in the sky. You forgot how lively a town could be: bustling with life. People of all ages, genders and skin tones wandered the market. Mothers with their babes and young children playing around her skirts. Those who came to sell and trade within the markets. Couples of old and young fill the streets with tender displays of affection for one another.

It made you blush when you looked around, realising that some could maybe say the same about you and Adrian looking like a couple. Would Adrian notice this too? Would he feel ashamed to be associated with you?

You didn’t realise you had been distracted by your thoughts when you felt a tender hand shaking you gently out of your thoughts. Blinking owlishly, Adrian stood before you, his golden eyes were wrought with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Overwhelmed, but I’ll survive,” you told him, puffing your chest out to show you weren’t feeling all sorts of worries. “Have you got the list?”

Adrian doesn’t want to shake away his concerns for you, but he unravels the crumpled note from inside his coat pocket to hand to you. You scan over it quickly before you nod. “See you back at the carriage?”

“I must hire one first,” Adrian chortles, “but yes, I shall see you then… be safe.”

Be safe.

It’s enough to make your heart swoon, and you nod, fleeing like a lovesick teenager who just said hi to her crush. You absorb yourself by finding the necessary things, trying your best to not get engrossed by the things around you.

You get mostly through your list before something catches your gaze.

An array of jewels of different sizes and colours greet you: some attached to bracelets, necklaces and brooches, others gaudy and lavish and sitting for all to see. It doesn’t take you long to fully stop and be standing in front of the older woman’s stall, looking over them carefully.

If only I had enough money.

“The peridot would suit you nicely, young lady,” you look up to catch the warm gaze of the woman, her crow’s eyes wrinkled. “Or alexandrite. Very pretty, will catch anyone’s eye.”

“They are very pretty,” you muse, though you already know you won’t be buying anything from her, it is always nice to look around. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Light colours would suit your skin tone,” she begins as she points to different items, holding them as if for you to compare until the next thing to come from her mouth leaves you practically gasping, “I’m sure your husband would agree.”

“Husband?”

“There you are.”

The first thing you notice is the arm that snakes its way around your waist, a body leaning in closely to you as you feel your body freeze on the spot. Adrian is looking over the jewels with you with interest, softly musing to himself, “I knew I’d find you here.”

You’re gawking now, no words are coming to you and it’s only when the old woman brings up impatiently that you’re buying anything that Adrian pulls a bag from his pocket, casually handing the woman the change as if it's nothing. “The peridot I think would look lovely on you.”

He’s moving away, back to the wagon with you following behind like a lost puppy.

“What was that?” You whisper when it’s just the two of you, watching the world go by.

“What do you mean?” He asks as he pulls out the necklace to inspect himself. “I thought this colour would look nice on you.”

“Yes,” you replied, fiddling with the hem of your gloves. “It’s just—”

Adrian seems to read you easily, and he knows when you’re showing some discomfort. “Have I made you uncomfortable?”

“Far from it,” you laugh it off, though your heart hammers to great lengths, “She had been the one to say I had a husband.”

Your laugh leaves Adrian silent, quieter than he normally is, and it leaves you spiralling. What was he thinking? Was he too uncomfortable with the choice of words?

“Turn round for me?”

You blink thoughtlessly at the question, slowly following as you turn your back on him. You have to stop yourself from gasping aloud when his gloved fingers graze over the back of your neck, pulling back your curls to give him a proper view.

You’re shivering, and you realise what state you’re in, crumbling just from a singular touch, but you try your best to keep your cool. Adrian steps close behind you, his scent is strong in your nostrils as he collects the links of the necklace, putting it around your neck before securing it.

 “It suits you.” He quips, knowing that his words are having an impact on you, before he turns away to the cart, you follow hot on his heels to nag him for making you feel so unsteady.

-

It's sometime later on the cart on your way back when Adrian suddenly touches your hand.

Even when he wears his leather gloves, you can feel the warmth that resonates within him, the raw strength and power that comes from him. He’s a killer, a killer who could’ve overpowered you a long time ago, but who you put your undying trust in.

Your shock freezes you as you look over at him, his gaze on the road ahead, but you know for a fact, that he’s aware you’re staring. “Is something the matter?” He draws softly, looking at you through his peripheral.

“You’re…” You can’t find the right words, but you direct your gaze to his free hand occupied in holding yours, and he follows. “My hand,” he states coolly, though you feel as if there is a hidden motive to this. “You were cold.”

Right, you tell yourself that, and a harsh chill bristles through you before you have time to think it through. He’s smart, too smart.

“Oh." You don’t consider he’s telling the whole truth, but you don’t shake away the way he’s holding your hand. It brings a great comfort to you. You’re still side-eyeing him as he continues on the road, the silence that envelops you is calming and quaint.

You’re very aware that your heart is hammering, the necklace wrapped around your neck is being twirled as you think heavily with your thoughts. Shall you tell him now how you feel? Would that break everything you built with him? It’s only a matter of time before your feelings are split accidentally and your friendship is cursed.

You squeeze his fingers to get his attention, “Adrian, there is something I wish to tell you-”

You’re lurched forward from your seat at the front of the cart, the suddenness of it is all to not still your nerves. The horses snorted in anxiousness, and all around you stood still as if holding their breath. Adrian’s eyes were deadest on something within the trees, and you couldn’t help but feel even more nervous at what could be out there.

“Night creatures?” You whisper to Adrian, but he only gives a glance your way, a way to tell you it was way, way worse.

It was still far too early for creatures of the night to be out, but with the fading sun passing over the horizon of the trees, that was when you spotted them.

They blended with the trees at first, but you could see their silhouettes, standing as rigid as statues, ready as soldiers for war, staring down at you like vultures. They can’t be just human bandits on the road, their presence alone gave off a bad omen. You don’t know how many you count, their clothes blend as one with the growing darkness as the sun settles.

Adrian’s voice is already speaking to you, cutting the silence with a knife.

“Y/N, get to the back of the cart, do not come out until I tell you so,” it’s not a warning, but an order, and you don’t want to waste his time by stalling. His voice is serious, eyes stone cold as he glares down at the figures not far and lurking around the trees.

Adrian easily hops down from his spot as he flicks the scabbard off his longsword. You watch in a mix of wonder and dread at the scene that unfolds.

The figures draw in closer, watching and snarling as Adrian holds a solid line, almost unfazed as he holds the sword close to his face.

His sword glows suddenly as if imbued with holy light, a shocking flow of blue flames engulfs it, glowing and hissing with life. The flames flicker close to Adrian’s face as he readies his action, changing his stance before he is on the closest one.

He’s quicker than your eyes can register, a shadow of crimson shifts as he moves at lightning pace, soon in front of the hooded creature as his sword moves as one with him. He is no longer holding it, rather, the two of them move as if it is a dance, fluid and graceful.

A hiss of a cry lurches into the darkening skies, one is down on the ground, its skin hissing and bubbling as it disintegrates.

Two more are on him with a flash, but Adrian fights with valour and dances around him, swords crashing against the sound of their taloned nails. You’ve not stuck around to know what was happening, having crawled through to the back of the cart for safety.

Once huddled in a spot surrounded by crates, you can only rely on sound: clashes of silver clang loudly around you, bodies fall and you have no clue if Adrian is winning or not. You can only assume he is, from the way you can still hear the glow of his magic sword, twirling around as silent as he is.

Another noise resonates from just outside, creeping behind you and you freeze, before the sound of splattering blood and a gargled choke dies down. You look just to your left to see that the material of the cart is splattered in the thick, viscous liquid, and you shudder that Adrian is here to protect you.

You don’t know how many of them are left, and you can only think that the best thing for you to do is protect yourself if one finds you inside. You scramble to your feet, clumsily looking for any blade that could be of use. You find only a flimsy dagger, and you clutch it close to your chest as you settle in the back of the cart, trying to calm your racing heart.

Something draws in close and you stutter a gasp before you realise it’s too late. The figure pauses almost dramatically, inching closer to the back of the cart, their movement deliberately slow, trying to edge as much fear out from you.

You pray it’s Adrian coming to your rescue, to tell you the area has been cleared, but as the face emerges through the curtains of the entrance to the cart, it’s not those golden eyes you’ve grown to love staring back at you.

They’re red, crimson as the blood that will soon spill from you.

Your screams fall silent as the face erupts into a smile, wide and fanged as the rest of its vampiric kind. The dagger in your grasp feels more like a twig as you stare down, wide-eyed the vampire in front of you.

“What a pretty little thing you are,” his voice is soft yet hoarse, and his red eyes seemed unblinking as he seemed to taunt you from the entrance, blocking one of the ways you could escape. “What a delicacy you’ll be.”

Your fight or flight had kicked in and instead of either of them, you had become frozen in your spot, dreading that this would be the way you died, dying in a smelling cart as a vampire ripped at your throat.

“Don’t worry,” he coos, inching closer, a clawed hand bracing the inside of the cart as he further draws inside, “I’ll make sure I’m quick with you.”

-

Adrian's POV

Blood soaks through the leather of his clothing, but he is thankful it is there’s and not his.

The last of the creatures die within an inch of him, sizzling into nothingness as he stares down what remains. Ash of their bones and the burnt clothes remain, the reminder to anyone who crossed him he would do it a hundred times over.

All in the name of love.

He had once didn’t understand the meaning of love, the way it would pull at his heart and lurch within him. He needed it as if it was necessary like water or food, a hunger that he yearned for in the waking hours of the day to the late hours of twilight.

He is his father's son after all.

Dracula did it in the name of love, and he found he was killing his kind all to keep you safe.

“Y/N, it’s safe.” He calls you to, and he listens for any sound except for the sounds of nature surrounding him. It’s startling how quiet the outside world could be, and how quickly his heart could plummet in knowing something was deeply, deeply wrong.

His heightened senses could not smell blood, not the blood that came from you but what had fizzled and dried. It seemed almost deathly quiet, but Adrian’s mind was racing, the pulling of his heart meant you were not here, or worse, he had failed to keep you safe.

A scream brings his attention, and he wastes no time in hurtling towards the back of the cart, his heart racing.

No, no, no, if he's failed in doing the one thing, he's failed you and himself.

He hasn't even got his face an inch through the gap before he senses something telling him to move out of the way, an object being flung just where his face would be. His head snaps to see a dagger clatter to the dirt just behind him before it turns to what stands before him, a snarl leaving his curled lips.

You were safe, for now, though the vampire he failed to miss had his disgusting fangs inches from the base of his neck, his clawed hands wrapped around you, keeping your body locked to his chest.

 “Son of Dracula, the Messiah,” the vampire greets him, observing him with a lazy smile. You continue to squirm in his grasp, eyes locked onto Adrian for any semblance of safety. “Care to take a bite of your pet first or shall I do the honour?”

His venom is bitter and his anger is boiling at the words he uses for you. How dare he call you a pet!

“Unhand her now,” his voice resonates inside him and he channels his father, the voice he would use and boom across the castle grounds, “I will not ask you again.”

“Ah, ah, one step and I spill her neck open.” The hooded vampire fusses, his movements almost consoling to Y/N as he runs a hand down her cheek, tears drying on her skin. “This one is a waste if you keep it.”

He laughs easily as he stares Adrian down, his next words bringing Adrian close to lopping his head clean off. “Though it is no surprise, you are Dracula’s son, keeping human women around as your pets. It was Dracula’s weakness,” he leant close into Y/N, drinking up her tears as he licked his tongue up the side of her face, “and it will be your undoing.”

Adrian is hunched as if ready to pounce to get him off you, but his golden eyes are never leaving you. A cry leaves your lips when his tongue licks up the side of your face, and you’re shivering, hands clutched around the tightened grip of his forearm.

There is a silent connection that only he can feel when you are close, and it comes from your eyes that stare back at him. They don’t seem as frightened as they did before, and he believes he knows you want him to be calm and not quick to action. Your eyes calm him like a storm approaching, ready to destroy all in its wake.

The vampire holding you runs a hand through the links of your necklace, the hands glimmer in the low light inside and it’s the only thing Adrian sees, trying to not imagine it coated in blood. “Such sweet, sweet blood.” The vampire says, his face drawing into your neck, but you stop him from doing anything further.

With your hands clutching his forearms tightly, Adrian watches how you shut your eyes tight, before shouting the words that resonate through you:

“Ardeo!”

It amazes him every time when you speak that spell, the way flames spill from your hands as easily as water flowing. The endless cycle of nature flows through you, and the power within your hands cries with a mighty scream that neither Adrian nor you know who it’s coming from.

The flames roar as they lick up the clothes of the vampire, and his screams join in fright as they clutch around his arm, a grip in itself that never lets him go. They take and they take, scorching the fabric as they bury deep into the skin.

The vampire is held in place as if something within an endless cycle of life and death ties him to his spot, scorched by your touch as he squirms and screams. He sounds like a pig, Adrian notes, but the sound is as annoying as the actual animal dying.

The vampire is quick though, and though his arm is distorted, blackened and charred, he shoves you away from him, his nails catching you by the skin of your arm, nicking it as you collide with the side of the cart.

Adrian is there in a flash to end it all, to end its misery, to end its hellish torment. He does it for you when his sword is a flash of lightning, quick to the bite and cold as a kiss to the vampire’s neck, coming out the other end before anyone could realise.

Your breath is caught in your throat as you’re unaware you’ve been cut, though the adrenaline dies down as quickly as the body slumps in front of you, turning to ash before your very eyes.

Adrian is beside you, a hand tending to your arm before the sting catches up with you. You hiss in pain, realising what had happened and how deep the wound is. Three long scratches reach down to your elbow, bleeding freely.

“Careful.” He’s quiet with his words, delicate as if treating you like the fine China you are. He rips part of your shirt, wrapping the open wound to stop the flow of blood. He reminds himself he needs to clean it when you return to the castle.

You’re staring at him as he does so, your eyes glazed over as if in a daze, and before he has time to register if you’re okay, he feels something press against his cheek, and he realises it’s your warm lips, chaste and sweet.

“Thank you,” you murmur, leaning into him as the silence fills the cart. Adrian is silent for what feels like forever, but his mind is screaming. You kissed him, and he’s gaping like a dead fish. You kissed him and he feels like a boy all over again.

He shakes out of his thoughts to collect himself, to calm the rush of blood that goes straight to his head, and he feels lightheaded, but he gladly accepts your embrace, cradling you to his chest.

“No... thank you.”

-

Latin Translation:

Ardeo - (I) burn

[delta-pavonis]

I would love to hear more about Raspberries and Rum?

*cackles*

OKAY. So this came from a conversation that I had with @wordsinhaled in, no joke, NOVEMBER 2022. And I still haven't written all of it. BUT some of the bits from our conversation are goddamned SOLID GOLD and I am cracking myself up all over again reading the transcript. [Important background science here (just read the title).] Here is me just copy-pasta-ing from Discord with no indication of who is saying what:

hob getting wasted on dream’s jizz because he tastes like a good mixed drink suddenly a thing i need to see Hob as New Inn bartender keeps trying to make a new rum cocktail with raspberry flavor and no one understands why referencing it makes Hob blush, it is just a reference to that cool space data, right? now suddenly need a 5+1 where hob keeps making dream trial raspberry rum cocktails until they find the Perfect One and dream is very bemused Gotta keep going back and comparing to the actual source material apparently raspberry season in the UK starts in june where he’s like fucking. up handmaking raspberry simple syrup in the middle of the night and dream is like “ah, offerings” Because, honestly, he is technically trying to figure out a way to have everyone who orders the drink get drunk on something that tastes like his husband's jizz? And I find that fucking hilarious? Definitely deranged Hob humor mainly because he’s like, do i want everyone to suck your dick? this is reserved for me but do i want everyone to know the JOY of this taste? perhaps However, first time a university student of his orders the cocktail, once it is on the menu, Hob has A Moment of Regret™️  just a moment though i wonder if dream is aware he tastes like this or if he just. came up with the most reasonable taste he felt he would have when composing his physical body, which of course would be nothing like human and of course some esoteric shit like didn’t even think about it once so he keeps trying this drink and being like yes my very competent bartender husband perfecting his fancy raspberry drink i am so proud but hob is looking perpetually more glinty around the eyes each time he gets closer to the mark and dream is like, cottoning on that Something Is Up eventually dream is like “there is some... significance here. that i am missing.” and hob has to turn around and hide his face in his hands because somehow he never thought he’d have to Explain what he was doing especially because i feel like this would be some shit hob would try to do one time in the middle of the night while planning the summer drinks menu and then somehow he’d be neck deep in recipes from google weeks later but then dream is fucking. super out of left field when he finds out like... “you are crafting a libation. to me.” and hob is like uhhhhhhh no???? not actually???? am i??? I mean... just... based... on you? Hob will argue semantics on this dream is like you’re distilling my essence into a drink that all your patrons will imbibe and hob is like uhhh maybe? uuuhhh... maybe I am? okay but dream like THAT’S KIND OF HOT and hob is like I WASN’T TRYING TO BE HOT I WAS BEING STUPID and dream is just. yes. my husband can be very stupid. and very hot "These two things are not mutually exclusive, my dear Hob." of course this has to culminate in “you mean to tell me you don’t know you taste like raspberries and rum? you just made yourself taste all... lovely and you had no idea?” “i had not the faintest idea, indeed.” “you’ve never...?” “i have had no occasion to... sample myself, as it were.” “sample... jesus. alright. what are you, an hors d’oeuvre at the department party?” “no. but it seems i could be its signature drink.” DREAM IS A LIL BITCH hob’s inner exhibitionist cackling at forcing his staid ass colleagues to drink this drink while dream broods in the corner indulgently eyeing his antics everyone like “wow robbie this is a GREAT cocktail mind if i nick the recipe off you” and hob is like “ah no actually, it’s a bit of a jealously guarded secret” NO. Dream overhears and that's how he introduces himself, the little shit "And you are?" "Oh, I am Hob's Jealously Guarded Secret."

Here is the first chapter of the 5+1 that is in that WIP file (under cut because NSFW - cw for drunkenness and blowjobs):

One: May

It starts as a joke. A joke in Hob’s head that he doesn’t tell anyone. Because he knows that after this many years walking God’s green Earth that he can have a slightly warped sense of humor. 

So Hob keeps his motivations to himself and dusts off his bartending skills, back from when he had just opened The New Inn and was still getting the staff up-to-snuff. And then he sets to work. 

He has to figure out the rum first. Actually, Hob knows exactly which rum he would like to use, the second batch of ron miel honey rum by Destilerías Arehucas produced shortly after they opened on Gran Canaria island in 1884, but as far as he can tell there are only three bottles of it left in the world and they are all in his personal collection. 

So Hob called some friends and obtained as wide a variety of current lines of Canary Island honey rum that he could manage. He bided his time until the next Friday night, poured out a shot of each in a row on his coffee table, and proceeded to get fantastically pissed.

(Could Hob have sipped and spit out the liquor as he tasted them? Sure. Was this more fun? Absolutely.)

It was only after Hob was well toasted that Dream sidestepped into his living room. 

Hob was off the couch and on his knees in front of Dream before he even really decided what to do with his drunk-ass self. He was nuzzling into the fly of familiar black jeans and Dream was letting out a surprised hiccup of a moan and Hob was pretty sure his brain had dissolved into giddy bubbles of lust and want.

Long fingers wound into Hob’s hair and held him there as he rocked forward, purring, “Why hello to you, too, Hob Gadling. I did not expect ah!” A gasp when Hob started peeling away the clothing. “Expect quite this manner of hospitality upon my arrival.”

“Gotta…” Hob had the single-minded determination only liquor could provide. “Need to check…”

Dream made a curious hum of an inquiry at that, but Hob didn’t have time to explain. The taste of the rum was already being diluted by all the saliva pooling in his mouth and he needed to compare them. 

It had been just over a year since His Stranger had walked back into his life. Slightly less than that since they realized what absolute idiots they were for each other. It was enough time, given the many many repetitions Hob had to practice, for him to get really fucking good at getting Dream off with his mouth.

Hob, in his infinite need to stroke his own ego, had timed it once. Well, more than once. Many times actually. The current record was 143 seconds from first press of lips to spend. Hob drunkenly thought he could do better than that. Not that he had his phone handy. Ah well, that wasn’t a good reason to not try.

Dream finished getting hard in Hob’s throat, sobbed as Hob swallowed repeatedly. His lover was shaking with it already, Hob preened distantly, and moved to press the tips of his fingers just so into Dream’s perineum. Another press and stroke behind Dream’s balls, this time while Hob sucked with his entire lung capacity as he backed away, and then the Lord Morpheus was coming with a strangled shout right onto Hob’s tongue.

Hob savored it for a moment, eyes closed, cataloging the taste, before swallowing and scrabbling away from Dream to the table. He grabbed the bottle of what he thought was the best flavor match and took a pull from it.

“Oh yeah,” Hob’s ass hit the floor with a thump. “That’s it.”

[theamityelf]

i am eating and chewing your yandere content, its so good, i love it so so much, if youre still taking requests maybe some yandere mukuro and naegi? I always think there's a lot of potential there but there's not a lot of content for it

Oh, I love it. I need to pick what time period I'm going with...

----

It didn't take much.

A smile, a greeting. Asking about her opinions and experiences. The time he asked if she needed help carrying her bag (and she had to run away because if he came any closer he would notice the smell of blood coming from inside it), the time he asked her if she was coming to lunch (and she blushed so badly, Junko later said her face looked like one big zit). Or maybe it was nothing to do with her at all; maybe it was because of how he was with everyone else, or how they were with him.

Maybe it was even as simple as the fact that she was used to traveling light, used to picking a few things she could carry and disregarding everything else.

She could carry him easily.

"Uh, Mukuro?" he said. "Are you okay?"

Right, she'd been staring. He'd taken the time to ask her if she wanted to join his group for ice cream after school, and she was being weird.

How embarrassing. She was definitely blushing again, now.

Well, it wasn't like that mattered. She was weird. She was socially inept and ugly and useless, and none of that mattered. Because the world was going to end soon, anyway. Maizono or Kirigiri could take him to a school dance, but Mukuro could pull him from the school before it turned into a warzone.

"Go on without me," she finally said. "I need to discuss something with Junko."

"Oh, okay. See you tomorrow!" Makoto and his friends vacated the classroom, leaving only...the 'despair sisters'.

Junko was sitting in her seat, filing her nails. Mukuro walked over to her and just stood there, waiting to be acknowledged. There was no doubt that her sister already knew everything she was feeling. She always did.

"Well?" Junko eventually said, her eyes meeting Mukuro's with cool amusement. "Are you too scared to ask, or do you just love wasting my time, skank?"

"I'm not scared," Mukuro answered. She did have a heightened awareness of the seriousness of this situation, but what she felt wasn't fear. "And...I'm also not asking."

"Gadzooks! Could it be that the worm has grown a spine?!"

"He can easily be spared from the plan. We don't need him in order to do what we intend to do."

"No sh!t, dumb*ss! The despair doesn't kick in when it's fvcking necessary!"

"The despair doesn't kick in if the plan doesn't happen, either." Mukuro's fingernails bit into her palms, as she forcibly steeled her tone and held her sister's gaze. She'd never threatened disobedience like that before. "You have everyone else in the class. You have me. You don't need him. Really, for a guy like him to keep his memories and watch them die that way...it would be more despairful than losing his memories and getting killed in the first or second round without understanding anything."

"So. You're suggesting he languishes in the data center while the killing game plays out, then you collect him in your nasty little arms once it's all over? Once the world is in ashes and there's no one else to love but you?"

"Essentially, yes."

Junko's lips curved. "And what's your contingency plan for how he'll react to knowing your designs for him?"

"He won't know about it until it happens."

And Junko's expression went blank, as though she found Mukuro's answer terribly boring. She rolled her eyes. "Fvcking atrocious. I can't even hint with you. Hey, Ultimate Soldier. You didn't secure your perimeter. Kind of a rookie mistake, dontcha think?"

"What?"

She dipped her head to the side, indicating a desk a few seats away where a familiar composition book lay open. "He forgot his notebook, smart*ss."

Mukuro wheeled around and heard a gasp from the doorway, and then retreating footsteps.

She broke into a sprint. Naturally, she was able to catch him, hand-gag him, and drag him into an unoccupied classroom before he could even think to yell.

Makoto's ineffectual squirming, his kicking and his elbowing, his growling and his vain attempts to speak...Mukuro was sure that she was blushing again, as she allowed more of her body to touch his than was strictly necessary to subdue him.

She was restricting his airflow, so he was going to pass out very shortly. And then she would have to contend with her sister. But for now...

"H-Hi," she said awkwardly, as he struggled in her arms. "Um, sorry. Sorry that I, uh...If I'd known that this would happen, I would've laid down a rug here. And maybe worn some perfume. I mean, I guess you can't breathe anyway..."

Fortunately, Makoto lost consciousness before she could say anything else.

She let go of him, so she could watch him slide out of her arms and rest on the tiles, all helpless. She took stock of what he must have overheard. Jeez, she must have sounded like such a pathetic, lovesick...

She heard Junko coming before the door moved. Immediately, she positioned herself defensively in front of him. Her sister was not allowed to kill him. That was the one thing in the world she wasn't allowed to do.

"Well, this is a clusterfvck, isn't it?" Junko deadpanned. "I guess not much of a cluster. It's just him. This one tripping hazard of a guy. I could just bite his little cheeks."

"I've never asked you for anything. Just him."

"Au contraire! You're not asking, remember? Where did that spine go? Did your body reabsorb it?"

"I-"

"This is boring. Take him to your dorm room, keep him there. I'll figure out what to do about this, as always. Can you manage an iota of stealth this time, you troll?"

Mukuro's heart soared. "Yes. Thank you."

"Oh, shut up. Out of my sight."

She princess-carried him to her room.

----

(I thought about making Kyoko the one who overheard, but the outcome there would be too similar to the Yandere Taka one.)

[wolfstarshipping]

the marauders & sex ed / casual shoebox propaganda

All the talk about the marauders and sex ed made me nostalgic for the shoebox project, so I reread chapter 13 (the one where Remus has literary wet dreams and they all get "the talk", more or less) and need to share my favorite bits of this classic:

Sirius

"I bought some -- some literature," Mr. Potter continues, shuffling through a few pamphlets in his lap. Pamphlets, Sirius thinks. I will never be able to look this man in the eye again. He isn't even able to look this man in the eye now, staring down at his shoes and wanting, more than anything else, to have the simple life of a shoelace. He'd only ever have to worry about fraying at the edges, or getting chewed on by puppies. That would be the life, even if it didn't have any pudding. "Well," Mr. Potter says, "how does this one sound? It's Perfectly Natural."

James

James knows now he will never, ever have sex. Some day, in the near future, once he has worn Lily down for the second time, and he finds himself locked with her in a passionate embrace, her lips sweet and her hair against his hands, he will remember suddenly and without warning this lone image of his mother, peering down at him from behind thick-rimmed spectacles, her gray hair wild from humidity and chores, saying sexual intercourse! triumphantly. And that will be the end of that.

and of course also:

"You need to be informed." His mother beams at him. "Now, of course, I'm sure you're very curious about all these new feelings you're having, and I want you to know that you needn't be ashamed of any of them, and I want you to ask me some of those burning questions." James gapes at her. "Your parents," she says, "can be a fountain of knowledge about sex in all its many forms." James's brain shuts down completely. After a moment he manages to croak out, "Mum?" "Yes, dear? Don't be afraid to ask the tough questions." "I have to go take a shower." Forever, he adds silently. "You are a little ripe," she agrees. "New glands, of course. Puberty! What a beautiful thing!""I can never speak to you again," James moans hollowly. "I'm going to move to Siberia and become a nun. Thank you, mum, for shaping my life this way.""Dear, I understand you're a little hesitant," his mother says placidly, and kisses him on the forehead before helping herself up to her feet. "But please understand that we -- your father and I -- know from personal experience that sex can and should be one of the world's most beautiful things, and you should never be ashamed of yourself sexually or--" "HOLY GOD IN HEAVEN," James bellows, hurling himself into the bathroom and slamming the door.

Remus

"Your…book," Remus repeats. Oh God, do they know? They couldn't know. Maybe literary dreams are some kind of Lupin family thing, and when they start then you're about to be initiated into the Lupin Family Secret. "I just -- I wanted to look up some, er, dreams." "We know," his father says. He leans across the table, putting a comforting hand on Remus' shoulder. "We just wanted you to know that these dreams happen to everyone." Remus gapes at him, aware that his mouth is unattractively filled with half-chewed peas. "Wh -- they do?" "Of course they do, sweetheart." His mother smiles at him, fond and understanding. The panic rises in Remus's throat. "You see, when you reach a certain age, your body starts to have…certain urges." "No," Remus says quickly. "No urges. There are no urges." "Of course there are," his mother presses, "and they're perfectly normal. It's hormones, you know. A function of the body. Nothing to worry about." "No urges," Remus insists. "No urges." "There's no need to deny it," his mother soothes. "We understand that you must be feeling -- confused, and alone, and possibly intimidated. It is, after all, a new phenomenon. You must be asking questions, like 'What's happening to me?' and 'Am I the only one?' But you aren't alone, dear." "I went through it, myself," his father says, slicing a piece of roast. "No urges," Remus says again. He's forgotten any other words exist. "Now, Remus," Mrs. Lupin says patiently, "we thought that, since you enjoy reading so much, a few books on the subject would prove very useful." "Am I still speaking English?" Remus babbles. "It sounds like English to me. Why aren't you listening? No urges. No urges!" "Well," Mrs. Lupin attempts, "the man at the store suggested this cartoon version for young men. Do you want to take a look?" "Not if it's about urges," Remus says, feeling hysterical. "I get it," his father says, winking largely at him. "No urges. Right? We'll just leave these in the living room. Just in case." Remus stares down at his peas. From now on, he supposes he won't be able to eat peas. He'll forever associate them with this sick, desperate nausea, his mother's helpful expression, his father's demented, lewd wink of conspiratorial understanding. "Ack," Remus says.

Peter

"Peter Wimsley Pettigrew, get your tail down to this room this instant!" Peter scuttles downstairs, not really having any choice in the matter. His mother is glowering at him, holding up something in her hand that looks like…a sock. A very small, rubbery sock. (...) "I don't understand," Peter says numbly. "Socks are supposed to go in the wash. Aren't they?" His mother's lower lip quivers. Her eyes flash with flecks of red fire, demonic and accusatory. Peter shrinks back. "Intercourse!" his mother howls. "It is a filthy practice, riddled with disease! Into the bath, young man! Two hours!" Peter turns tail and runs. "Do you have any idea?" his mother's voice follows him. "The warts -- herpes -- untold infections -- unsanitary -- disgusting -- filthy -- no son of mine--!" Peter slams the door to the bathroom behind him and locks it. It didn't even look like one of his socks. It was too small to be one of his socks. It must have been one of his sister's, got mixed up in the wrong laundry. He's not entirely sure where all this talk of intercourse comes in, and how warts got thrown in the mix, but he doesn't often listen to his mum and secretly encourages dust bunnies as pets, until she takes them away. It isn't as if he has to listen to her. Oh well, Peter thinks, and runs a nice, hot bath.

All quotes are from the shoebox project by dorkorific & ladyjaida.

[sweetandsavageautistic]

(CW: Cringe, puzzle pieces, Autism Moms, potential sensory eyesore, ableism possibly, like one sex joke)

Welcome back to me harshly criticizing graphic design choices that people make about autism where I find pictures of shirts and whatnot and I tear into them like a lion tearing into its prey. Let's get into it.

In the words of @rebmasel on TikTok: "Ka-chow."

First up the only appropriate way to do this review is in the style of Dr. Seuss.

I do not like the puzzle piece, for it disturbs my fucking peace.

The color purple is real nice, but the message here I would think twice.

No tacky colors, so that's good. I don't hate it, though I feel I should.

Final Score: 4 out of 10. I'd rather not see this again.

I know the first line's kinda cheating, but I couldn't really think of any other fitting rhyme.

Next up is this:

This is already miles better than most of what I've seen.

The colors aren't tacky, they're actually kinda nice.

You have two wolves inside of you, both of them are gay and autistic. /ref

Autism Acceptance, that's a win.

Infinity symbol instead of puzzle piece, fuck yes.

Only criticism is that it's kind of a cheesy message, but not the worst.

Final Score: 9.5 out of 10. I'd wear it.

And then the quality drops here.

Puzzle piece means you lost points.

"Autism Mom." You can say it's difficult to raise an autistic child, but you're not a goddamn superhero.

How dare you use Rosie the Riveter for this. The disrespect. /hj

The military font is tacky.

I don't like seeing blue associated with autism, but at least it's not an abominable shade of blue.

Final Score: 1 out of 10. Get it out of my sight.

Speaking of lions that I mentioned earlier:

I'm already liking the absence of puzzle pieces.

Autism Acceptance is a yes.

When a lioness has children, she stops making love to the lion. The lion gets jealous, sometimes so jealous he EATS the children. You'd think this would upset the lioness; far from it. They make love again like the children never existed. I find that idea terrifying. /q

Not a fan of the colors, they're too dark for my taste.

The message feels cheesy.

Final Score: 7.5 out of 10. I dunno if I'd wear it, but it's not the worst design I've seen. The effort and care are present.

This feels like a roller coaster because it went downhill again.

"Share your friends." As someone with PDA, to quote Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 3, Line 87; "No." /hj

Autism Awareness. Once again, I am very aware of my existence but sometimes I wish I wasn't; there are days where I'd like to be both perceived and NOT perceived.

The blue isn't tacky, thank God.

I hate the quote because it gives the message that autism is nothing but a burden.

Also there's a bit too much going on with it, all of the decals and shit.

I don't see any puzzle pieces, so thank God.

Final Score: 2 out of 10. I do not recommend.

This is a bit different.

There's just way too much going on in this. Absolute eyesore.

Return of the Tacky Elementary School Colors, except they dragged orange into it this time.

So many puzzle pieces.

Why is everyone trying to fight autism? It's just minding its business.

I'm pretty sure that that's going to be a signal to mean kids to bully your kid. Like, even if there's more understanding of autism, there are still asshole crotch goblins.

I haven't "done" autism, but I am curious as to whether or not autism is good in bed. /j

Final Score: 1 out of 10. No thanks, I'll pass.

Let's end part 2 on a high note.

Simple design, but colorful and pretty easy on the eyes.

And the colors aren't patronizing.

No puzzle pieces.

Acknowledgement of the intersectionality of autism and sexuality.

No cheesy message; just a funky design about autism and gayness. Not all autism shirts have to be serious or UwU or motivating, so it's always a nice change of pace.

Final Score: 11 out of 10. As an asexual biromantic autistic, I'd wear this.

[kingkatsuki]

Hi! I've been going through your blog (bc its so good?!?! Thank you so much for writing so much Bakugou content!!!!) and just got really inspired by your Dragon King Bakugou universe to write about something urging reader to leave. I hope it's okay but I wanted to share what came out of it:

---

You had to leave.

Rumours of a vengeful vagabond out for Dragon King Bakugou's blood had spread. Although this is not the first and certainly would not be the last person seeking revenge, this particular instance caught your attention. Every descriptor about him was deeply familiar to you and, beyond your wildest hopes, reminds you of your brother. And so, you had to leave. 

It was simple really, almost laughingly so. All you had to do was request for some extra furs here, a larger bag there, and oh, you were fancying some cured meats lately! No matter what you asked for, they were brought to you immediately, for you were the woman cherished by the dragon king himself. His greatest prize. You had packed all the necessities as well as some of the jewels and gold Bakugou insisted on lavishing you with.

Just take it, woman. You know we dragons love to have shiny things and you're mine so of course my woman is going to have the best jewels.

Your heart squeezes at the memory of his brash words paired with his gentle hands as he adorned you with his spools. Physically leaving was easy, yes; steeling your resolve was the hard part. 

---

Taking one last look behind you at the castle you had called home for so many moons, you take a breath.

"So you're gonna leave just like that?" You freeze, heart stopping at the sound of his voice. You had been so careful. 

And you were, spacing your requests out between other mundane ones to not let anyone draw connections. But this was Bakugou, how could he not have known when he memorizes every breath you take. When he commits all your favourite things to heart so he can bring you more to make up for everything he has taken. When he is so painfully aware that he fell for a woman who could never love him with all that she is.

"I'm sorry...my King"

He scoffs "Am I still your king even when you are leaving?" 

And though you cannot bear to look into his eyes, swirling with hurt, betrayal, and anger, you must because he deserves at least that much. "You will always have a piece of me."

"But never the entirety, right" his distain masking what he really wants to say stay, please. But how could he ask you to choose him over your family, to take yet another important thing away from you again, to ask you to choose him when you never had a choice in coming here in the first place. 

Your lips set into a thin line, holding back the lump in your throat and the comforting words you wanted to give him. Because at the end of the day he was right, he could never have you entirely, not when your brother might be out there. Your brother, who helped raise you, cherish you, and mourned you and everyone he knew when he came back to a pile of rubble. You had to go back to him, you had to let him know that he is not alone in the world and maybe you can distract him enough to stop his quest for vengeance. 

Seeing the resolve in your eyes strengthen spurns Bakugou to try even though he knows he is fighting a losing battle "Is there nothing I can do to make you stay? I would get on my knees to beg if you so wishes it, just say the word."

"Bakugou if you really loved me then let me leave. If you do not, then you can command me to stay." And that is what seals it. Dragon King Bakugou who has never lost a fight in his life, for the first time cannot fight back. Because no matter what may come to pass, if there is one truth in the world it is surely that he loves you.

And so he turns around, tears in his eyes and heart in his throat, no matter how hard he tried, it was never be enough to change how you two started. "Go," he chokes out, "before I regret it"

"Thank you," you whisper, the wind carrying your voice over "Katsuki." And you're off, running into the distance, free. The complete opposite of how you arrived, strapped to the saddle of a dragon.

That was the first time, Katsuki thinks, and the last. That you've ever called him by his name.

#and then months later when katsuki is starting to become numb to the pain #only because he keeps fighting and fighting and fighting to the point of exhaustion so he has no more energy to think about you #but he always has energy when it comes to you #especially when he fists his cock at night to the memory of his name on your lips #anyways months later you're at the doorsteps of his castle #this time of your own free will #his heart nearly stops at the sight of you #at the scent of you #he thinks its a hallucinations #until you step forward and say his name #somehow its so much sweeter than his memory of it and thats when he starts to realize that this is real #and you stay for good #and maybe that was the first time katsuki was given instead of him taking #i love reading your tags but i don't think that really works in an ask but this is me trying to emulate

Ahhh thank you so much!

I love the angst of this. Like it pains you to leave, but you’re doing it because you know what your brother is capable of and what might happen if you stay.

And I can imagine that moment where Bakugou catches you, and you want him to tell you to stay because it’s gonna physically hurt you to leave him, but you know deep down it’s what you have to do.

And you spend all the time away from him longing for him? And he’s doing the exact same— but maybe he becomes more ruthless, more cold? Because he’s lost the only thing in his life worth having. No amount of riches or kingdoms can compare— and you find out that he’s planning an attack on your brother so you have to stop it? To explain to him the real reason why you left😭

[auckie]

waiting for the beta fish post to drop ill wait however long it takes idc 🦦

Okay. I’m ready. Nothing demotivates me more than losing progress on like. A game, or word document or whatever. A lost ask is like a grain of sand dropped into the ocean.

Anyways!

So betas are often sold in little cups, right? And the people at say, pet smart tell you, ‘yeah a bowl will do’. WRONG! While betas are somewhat low maintenance fish compared to many— a cheap but beautiful option that seemingly needs no filter or heater and very minimal space, it is now widely accepted that this is flat out untrue. Everyone knows males cannot be kept together, but even having just one fish I would highly recommend a ten gallon. May seem excessive but considering that betas do well in high tannin naturalistic setups, you’re going to want to fill this space with plants and hides. What’s more is if you don’t want to do a self filtering tank (which will still require moving water and regular changes/cleanings or refills), it is still generally recommended that you do invest in a filter and heater. I’ve seen some people go about this by using natural sunlight or heat lamps but 1) harder to regulate 2) risks overheating.

I used to keep fish. Betas and a warm fresh water 1 gallon with a few species together. I don’t anymore for a few reasons. Mostly the upkeep, and because for me personally. I just don’t like keeping fish. Any animal that’s bigger than your thumb, if it lives in a cage or tank and spends most of its time in there. This isn’t to say it’s wrong by any means, but like birds…I’ve just come to think ‘yeah we probably shouldn’t be keeping them outside of their natural habitat esp if they’re highly social or mobile creatures. Moreover with long life spans and high social/mating needs.’ Again! Not condemning the practice for others. It can certainly be done right! But it’s often a lot more time consuming and costly than people realize. Now if you’re willing to invest in what it takes to keep the animal comfortable by all means! Aquarium keeping can be super rewarding, and making naturalistic setups makes for beautiful and calming decor. It’s an amazing hobby. Even if you can’t keep something as simple as duckweed alive for whatever reason, artificial hardscapes with plastic plants and such can still look okay. And a ten gallon + tank vacuum + simple filter and heater really won’t cost you much! I highly recommend looking to YouTubers for tank inspiration, and tips!

If you do decide to go for a 3-5 gallon, or some nontraditional choice of habitats, like a large vase. Well I can’t stop you, and that doesn’t t mean your fish will die. It was a common myth not to long ago that fish couldn’t feel pain, and that their memory spans only lasted for 3 seconds. This is false, and luckily not as widely believed thankfully— but it’s a great example of how people will assume that non mammalian animals have simpler needs due to misunderstanding how their bodies operate, simply because of how different they are than say a cat or dog. Not accusing you of this by any means— you may very well be waaay more informed and aware of this than I am. But it’s a necessary disclaimer.

Other easy to keep fish include neon tetra, fantail guppies (but do not mix them with fish who will nip their tails), and the classic goldfish. another disclaimer about the latter: flushing goldfish thought to be dead, or simply tossing unwanted ones into local water ways has caused them to become a highly invasive species in many areas across North America. Do NOT do this. They’re outcompeting native species due to how fucking hardy they are, and growing to insane sizes. The lack of natural predators and peoples unwillingness to fish for them makes for a particularly nasty pest :/

These aforementioned fish save the goldfish will need the same basic things as a beta, but can be kept in mixed sexed groups, and tetras are often kept with great danio, mollies, and even tiger barbs (who are cute but can be a little aggressive for smaller beginner fish). All of these are available at big chain pet stores for very cheap.

If you’re hellbent on forgoing heaters and filters you could try triops (they don’t require much space but love to dig so have some specific substrate needs, and don’t live very long but can be multigenerational and sustained if done correctly. They’re also insanely cute and entertaining to watch), shrimp (so many different kinds!), snails, or even a mixture of these!

There’s also ecojars. Very cheap to make, and very educational! I love microfauna and follow a lot of YouTubers who’ve had great success making both aquatic and terrestrial ecojars from the local environments around them. If you live by the coast, brackish and saltwater jars are a lot harder, but freshwater ones are very simple! Terrestrial ones are basically just vivariums/terrariums you can even stock by going out to forage for things like snails, slugs, isopods, millipedes, etc. Clean up crew critters do well, but larger predatory insects are a bit harder to keep in an enclosed/self sustaining habitat. That brings us to our next options!

If I can sell you out of aquariums for an easier and possibly cheaper or equal price with a lot less upkeep! But. It involves insects so I’m going to put it under a cut in case that is not something you’re looking for. It’s long too, so feel free to ignore it. BUT! If I’m able to wet your whistle please feel free to ask for more info 🤠

Bugs! Well, arthropods. Such as: isopods (I have rubber duckies and they are doing exceptionally well eating nothing but leaves with the occasional fruit or veggie and calcium sources! They cohabitate with spring tails, harmless soil mites, and terrestrial amphipods. There are many much cheaper and hardier species that are easier to find such as dwarf whites, dairy cows, or even local wild caught ones! Another warning is to NOT dump these outside. And be careful foraging for things from outside for them to eat because you never know what’s been treated with pesticides or beneficial nematodes, or is infested with fungus, mold, or harmful pest species like parasites or mites).

Really all you need for any given species is a little container with a few air holes, substrate such as coco fiber, reptisoil, jungle mix, or your own backyard topsoil which ideally has been baked to sterilize. You can also bake pinecones and oak or magnolia leaves for them to feed on. Crush them up and mix them into the substrate, and add either crushed oyster shells or maybe bits of limestone or coral if you have them available. You can buy cuttlefish bone online as well. They love cork bark, but again, I’m sure if you find and bake bark or bits of drift wood, you can make that work too. They loooove to eat moss, and some species will readily gobble up fish food and bee pollen. Josh’s frogs (as well as other brands) make some specific powder blends that I feed mind. I think it’s called bug burger. The general practice is to create a ‘moist side’ and ‘dry side’ gradient so the isopods have a choice of where to go. They have gills but that doesn’t mean they want to always be drowning in 90% humidity. There’s a lot of beautiful exotic species but they get expensive fast, and are often fond of burrowing or hiding in sphagnum moss so you won’t always see them, and well. They’re usually tiny.

Millipedes are very similar— some are huge and beautiful, some even look like giant isopods (pill millipedes), but burrow, so…you won’t get the most visual bang for your buck.

A lot of people are very fond of finding and keeping jumping spiders. They’re cute to look at and fun to feed, but this requires buying feeders (crickets, meal worms, roaches, or fruit flies depending on size and what’s available near you), but that’s not always everyone’s speed. Plus they don’t live very long once they’re adult size and sexually mature. You can buy them as well but, I prefer to just enjoy them outside. Why take a solid guy out of his environment if he’s not gonna live much longer and is doing his part in ridding your yard of gross bitches? They do a NUMBER on mosquitos.

Beetles! Some species stay grubs for the majority of their lives and will be buried until they’re ready to go out and find love, so as much as I love larger species that are fun to interact with, I’m going to lean towards what I own: the blue feigning death beetle

Very silly little beasts. Very low maintenance! They live in American deserts and are covered by a powdery residue that helps them retain moisture. You can make a mix of sand and coco fiber and keep them in an open top tank (I keep mine in a huge fish bowl), and provide them with hides such as cholla wood or cork bark, rocks and even plastic decor. They will eat almost anything and get most of their moisture from their diet. I feed mine cut up fruits and veggies, the occasional roach, beetle jellies, bug burger, chicken feed, cat food (wet or dry), sugar water in little bottle caps with a sea sponge, moss, or cotton ball in them, fish flakes, freeze dried peas, bee pollen, and even like. Leftover bread or popcorn so long as it’s unseasoned. They can go a while without food or water too, so handle neglect well. But so long as you give them a ‘wet sweet food’ and protein at least once a week you should be Gucci. They’re diurnal afaik and will begin moving about when it’s light out. They don’t need heat lamps or anything of the sort.

They rarely bite and when they do it’s because you have food on your hand, and it doesn’t hurt. They can’t climb or fly, and play dead when threatened. Very cute to watch, and hold, and they’re constantly fucking. Sometimes a male will see another male trying to feel up a larger female, and will climb atop them both and start trying to have sex with the male. I’ve seen two males feeling up and trying to go at it with a rock. They’re so funny. But it’s very difficult to breed them in captivity. They live a while tho so hey, you got a while to research and experiment! Because of this, however, most available for purchase are wild caught. And I personally am not crazy about that.

Scorpions! There’s a good amount of largely harmless species that make for great pets! Asian forest and emperor are the first two that pop into my head. They glow under UV light, making them easy to find, and don’t have to eat super often. The one I own loves to run up to the side of its enclosure whenever I walk by, throwing its claws up to show me it means business. I’ve never been stung but I hear it’s like a bee sting. The two species listed are cheap and prefer it moist, and afaik don’t really sting once they’re mature. They prefer to use their claws to do the talking. Below is a random species under UV light:

And finally, the most visually pleasing, long living, and low maintenance yet entertaining things I own: tarantulas. Given that I work at a tarantula breeder and am incredibly biased feel free to ignore this next bit, but also hear me out. I’ve never been afraid of tarantulas, but used to be a bit wigged out by spiders as a kid. T’s, at least the new world species I own, are so. Much more stationary, slow, and just. Nonchalant than most true spiders I’ve kept. You will usually know if and when they’re about to strike.

Orb weavers have never done well for me, but I’ve had some luck with cobweb weavers (they don’t tend to remake their webs every fucking day which helps with setting up a habitat), but they just don’t live very long— and when something has such a short lifespan I feel guilty for keeping it from its primary goal of breeding. Tarantulas, however, can live for up to 20+ years. And you can make money breeding them! But a lot of discords or Facebook groups dedicated to this are. Like full of the most obnoxious people you’ve ever met. Males don’t live as long, they usually croak after sexually maturing and then molting again. If they’re lucky they might make it one more. And they don’t have a great chance when it comes to breeding and surviving. Depends on the breeder controlling the situation. I’ve read that the longest lived one on record was a female Goliath bird eater* clocking in at over 30 years old. That’s a fucking cat. Not all get huge either! There’s dwarf species, and many are arboreal meaning you’re likely to see it often!

The shop I work at, along with most tarantula breeders recommend a GBB as a first time spider. I fucking Do Not. They’re aggressive, cute as spiderlings but less cute as adults, gross (web and bolases and shit everywhere), kick urticating hairs* that drive me nuts. And they just suck.

I have two coworkers who follow me and will strongly disagree but I don’t care because I know I’m right on this one: my top beginner picks are the caribena (formerly avicularia) versicolor.

As slings they are bright blue and so fucking funny. They walk like a cat with mittens on and their urticating hairs are so fucking mild that you won’t even notice them. Their red mouths stick out like a shitty lipstick on their stupid blue bodies and they love to shake their butts before they jump, like a cat but way worse. They’re not terribly fast and their bite is nothing. It’s worthless. They’re…somewhat sensitive and do like to randomly die, but so long as you keep them in an arboreal enclosure with ventilation and a weekly misting? You’re golden baby. They eat well, are arboreal so you’ll always see them, and can be kept in fairly small enclosures for quite some time! Here’s what they look like as adults:

Still pretty! And not scarily massive.

I own an even more sensitive species: the Brazilian jewel tarantula. It’s a dwarf species but stupid expensive and makes a shitty trapdoor so you don’t see it often which is a shame bc they’re beautiful and so adorable. Similar mannerisms and levels of ‘this piece of shit can’t hurt me’. Ideally you won’t be handling them but, well, I can’t blame you if you do bc it’s fun. I don’t own any species that care hurt me bc why would I want to?

For some. More common first time reccs tho, I would probably say the Arizona blonde (very chill and fuzzy. Somewhat more itchy), the Brazilian black (a little less stunning but also pretty chill and fun to watch because they will completely rearrange the furniture of their habitat for no reason), the Chilean rose hair (read previous)— basically any grammastola or brachypelma species. Hamorii (Mexican red knees) look cool. Another controversial pick are cyriocosmus. They have golden hearts on their butts! They’re pricier though, and again, other t keepers act as if they’re hard. They’re not. Most new world species are simple if you just research them— my boss often will balk and laugh when she hears people are buying 1/2 inch slings and putting them in like, 5 gallon tanks. But it’s literally fine. They def don’t need that much space but if they burrow. Look for the hole. Give them enough substrate, keep it moist but not sopping. Ventilation is key. Some people use empty, clear take out bins or medicine vials to keep these things in, and that’s fine so long as there’s air holes. You can use a soldering iron or small drill, or even a pin to poke some into the container, depending on how hard it is. Even larger spiders have been kept in big empty jars and such. You feed them once a week unless they’re in premolt (they get fat and shiny or lose their hair on their asses and may make a molt mat of web, or a little enclosed webbing bubble, or bury themselves and won’t eat during this time which, depending on species, could be a while), or whenever they look skinny!

If they’re arboreal give them a vertical climb, be it a real plant or plastic, cork bark, even aquarium decor. So long as it’s not sharp because tarantulas are surprisingly delicate.

Feed them something the size of their ass give or take, and disable it using little, sharp feeding tongs (grab the head and drop it in near them, or hold it to them at a distance and if it’s moving they’ll usually strike). Some super tiny slings will even eat springtails. Larger, adult T’s can take multiple dubia or even big ass roaches like hissers. It’s kind of sad feeding them off but, the spiders gotta eat 🤷‍♂️ if you’re interested and have any questions on other species, or the ones I listed, lemme know!

Okay. And by far. The least wanted or liked recommendation I have. Are roaches 😔 there’s some beautiful species out there man. Hissers are super fucking docile, but prolific. They hiss when scared, but never bite. They don’t even eat each other in times of duress! They do have spiky leg bits which can scare some people off. But take a look at emerald roaches (which are. Expensive 😶), don’t they look like cool beetles? They’re arboreal! Then there’s the table mountain roach, which SQUEAKS when scared! The domino roach! I’ve posted pics of molting roaches many times— they’re soft and white and have huge, mantid like eyes. It’s very disarming and cute. They’re so much more intelligent than we give them credit for. The roaches I keep at work know when I’m about to feed them and they all clamor at the tops of their bins, and once the feed is in they all grab a bit and run off with it in their mouths like dogs! Many tropical, burrowing species are basically little cows, and many are amazing parents which is a rarity in the insect world!

Most of these fellers can do well in a plastic bin with a top, with ventilation of course. And the usual substrate, hides like cork bark and rocks and moss, misting, and similar feed to isopods and the beetles I mentioned. As for price and availability, well, you’re probably only going to be able to find hissers and dubia unless you have a niche store near you or are willing to have them shipped. And while I love both of them. They are gross. They’re R strategists to a T and will multiply to the point that they require sell offs or regular culling. Which, if you own species that eat them, it can be a win win! But they also are hard to keep clean. So I probably, actually do not recommend them 😞 the less prolific, more beautiful species are cleaner, but more expensive. But hey, I had to shoot my shot, right?

Okay. Well. Thank you for listening if you got this far. Good luck either way and thanks for being patient!

*Goliath bird eaters and any similar named bird eating tarantula do not. I mean they *can* eat birds yeah but that’s just a shocking name that stuck. Don’t let that scare you. But also that species sucks so it doesn’t matter

*pretty sure I put another asterisk in here but I can’t find it and don’t remember what it was for sorry. Shoot me an ask if it was like. Killing you ig