#so it's understandable that some aspects are rough around the edges

[arcandoria]

thoroughly obsessed with Halsin's romance but also glad upon going in his tag that there's a bunch of stuff that I felt could have been written better and seems I'm not alone on that

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread    

Legend of the Storm Sneezer

quirky middle grade high fantasy about a winged girl with a magical stormcloud that causes trouble

kids with unstable magic in an asylum in a magical forest full of ghosts

she, her best friend, and her time-travelling future selves team up to solve the mystery of the past before it happens again

[grandlinedreams]

|| in the same reader setting as [this]

|| warnings: lil bit of angst/self-deprecation, reader has spine, some drama for the sake of it, had Bryce's starlight power in mind w reader

Some days, you wonder why you're here. Objectively, you know why ㅡ but beyond the obvious circumstances, you can't puzzle it out.

Especially as you watch your sisters seemingly click into place. Feyre, of course, has always had a spot ㅡ as High Lady, mate to Rhysand. Nesta has come into her own as well, finding her strength with the Valkyries and Cassian. And even Elain seems more and more comfortable here.

You still aren't sure where you fit in. It's an echo of how it'd once been back home, before all of it ㅡ a careful balance to not take too much, need too much ㅡ to do what you could to help. Unremarkable in all aspects, you suppose, for being Nesta's twin.

Feyre has often likened you to the two sides of the moon ㅡ cut from the same cloth, but so very different.

And the longer that you go in living here, the more it unsettles you ㅡ until it eventually comes to a breaking point of needing to do something.

And you begin watching training sessions. The Valkyries, Nesta, Cassian and Azriel ㅡ it doesn't matter who it is, you watch ㅡ a book in your lap as an excuse. You don't know why you don't want them knowing what you're truly up to, as there's no shame to be had in wanting to defend yourself.

All the same, you don't breathe a word of it to anyone. Your own sessions are self-made, mimicry clumsy and often times uncoordinated ㅡ but you're trying, and that's enough. Illyrian warrior you are not ㅡ but at least it's something.

ㅡ

"Thank-you for coming with me today," Elain tells you as you walk beside her, pace sedate as she glances at the shops to the right, your own attention on the Sidra to the left.

"Of course," you answer, and you can't help but glance back. Several paces away, Azriel trails behind, looking for all the world relaxed ㅡ though you know he misses nothing. Though Elain had asked you to accompany her, part of you wonders if Azriel had been hoping to be alone with her ㅡ you've caught the quiet looks that he's shot her every now and then today.

Sun warming your shoulders, you find your attention back on the Sidra, the gleam of light refracting off the surface. Velaris is beautiful, and you can understand why Rhys worked so hard to keep this place a secret from Amarantha.

"Elain," you begin, "do you thinkㅡ" You cut yourself off, abruptly aware that your sister is no longer at your side ㅡ nor is Azriel behind you. In your absent mindedness, you must have kept walking when Elain hadn't ㅡ and your stomach tightens at the realization that you have no idea where you are.

Stay calm, you think, pushing down the tendrils of instinctive alarm as you try to orient yourself, though none of the buildings are even vaguely familiar. Just how far had you gone?

"Lost?" The voice that speaks from behind you is wholly unfamiliar as you whirl, eyes locking with the deep green of a fae male who approaches you.

"No," you answer coolly, pushing down how the steady rove of his gaze over you makes your skin crawl. "I'm on my way to meet with my sister, actually."

"Oh." He takes another step to you. "Allow me to escort you?"

"No. That won't be necessary," you answer. There's an edge to your tone that you can hear, razor sharp ㅡ and you move to skirt around him. "If you'll excuse meㅡ"

Fingers snap around your wrist, squeezing with enough force to hurt as you're yanked to a halt. Something stirs in your chest. "Let go of me."

"Not until you apologize," comes the rough reply. "I'm trying to be kind, and you're veing rude."

You can feel your skin bruising under his grip, the ache of your wrist ㅡ and your other hand is curling into a fist and snapping up before you truly think about it.

The punch lands against his jaw and he grunts, letting up on your wrist enough for you to wrench it free with a venomous hiss that'd make Nesta proud as warmth bubbles in your veins, licking up your spine as it buzzes beneath your skin. "Get your hands off me."

The male's eyes blaze before he's lunging for you, hand fisting into your hair to yank you back ㅡ and the world splinters into bright, dazzling light. It blazes, burns brighter than faelight with all the warmth of a summer day as you hear the male yelp ㅡ and then you're on your knees, hands aching as you press your palms to the rough stone and struggle to even your breathing.

The sharp cry of your name and the rapid approach of footsteps is the only warning you get before arms are around you, pulling you close ㅡ Elain.

"Are you okay? One minute you were beside me and then you weren't, we were looking everywhere for you and ㅡ oh, look at your handsㅡ" Her fussing is going in one ear and out the other as she coaxes you to your feet. "Come on, let's get you to Madja, okay?"

You don't remember much of the trek back, lost in a mute daze that has Elain shooting Azriel a worried look and asking for him to escort you to Madja so she can go tell Feyre what happened.

You're quiet even as the healer looks over your hands, the raw skin of your knuckles and knees where you hit the ground ㅡ and still not a word leaves your lips until Feyre is calling your name, hands on your shoulders.

"Elain told me what happened, but she said there was a burst of light right before they found youㅡ"

"Me," you mumble, cutting her off. "That was me. I think." Feyre stares at you, but you're studying your hands. "It...it came from me."

"Oh," Feyre breathes, then glances at Rhysand, who's watching you.

"It's possible she's yielded her powers," he says. "We'll have to see what the extent of it is, and go from there."

It feels a little weird, being discussed as though you aren't there ㅡ and you're more than grateful when the only one left is Azriel, who watches you as you keep studying your hands.

"...the male who grabbed me," you mumble. "I punched him."

"Good." Azriel's shadows had been the ones to report where you were and what was happening ㅡ and the fury he'd felt had been interrupted by that burst of light. "Don't feel bad for defending yourself."

"That's the thing," you answer. "I don't." Your brow furrows. "I'm not...like Nesta or Feyre, or Elain." You pause. "I don't know what I am."

He knows you mean more than just today, that this has been haunting you for a while ㅡ ever since the events that'd landed you here. He can sympathize, truly ㅡ and then he's approaching to ease your hands apart from where you'd been picking at the gauze over your knuckles.

"You don't need to be anything like them," he tells you, then tenses as you study his hands ㅡ broader than yours and scarred ㅡ and then you slot your fingers between his and squeeze gently.

"I have a question," you murmur, letting your other hand rise to trace a fingertip over his knuckles, seemingly unaware of what the simple touch is doing to him. "I...I've been watching all of you train, but I'd like to actually be taught properly."

Azriel hums. "Cassianㅡ"

"No," you counter, fingers tightening around his. "I want you."

Azriel stills for several long moments where he swears thst his heart stutters, stops, then resumes before he answers. "Okay."

[jimmyandthepulsatingmass]

A Very Long Rope to the Top of the Sky

I've added a Very Long Rope to the Top of the Sky to itch.io!

This is mainly a response to the ask I got the other day to upload God of Crawling Eyes (which I'll get to next, I swear!). Since rpgmaker.net has been down for some time and the only upload for my old games is on archive.org, it felt like probably a good idea to upload everything on itch.io for the sake of preservation. I'm just going to upload them every day or so until they're all there.

From the page:

A Very Long Rope to the Top of the Sky was my first complete game.  It was an overly ambitious, full-length RPG that I had no business making with my rudimentary understanding of game development at the time, but it still has its charm.

The mechanics are pretty by-the-numbers rpg maker, the mapping is generally not detailed enough, and the graphics are RTP with an occasional edit, but the writing mostly holds up and some of the songs are great--even if they're MIDI.  If you're willing to overlook the simplicity of the battle system and the rough-around-the-edges aspects of the game, there's enough here to legitimately enjoy.

The story starts with Mint and Ivy, two sisters who are grappling with the death of their father.  They live on a barren planet, so barren that they've never run into any people outside of their immediate family.  But, there's a rope hanging next to their house.  It's always been there.  It goes up and up and up, so far that it disappears into the clouds.  With their father dead, their attempts at foraging falling short, and the world filled with dangerous monsters, they have no choice but to climb the rope.  What awaits them, above the clouds?

Features: -Original music -Character-centric storyline -40+ hours of gameplay -Different equipment sets that modify the ways characters play -A crafting system featuring over 100 pieces of unique equipment -LOTS of side quests -Recruit an odd assortment of townspeople and pass legislation to develop your own village -Raise a pig to compete in the Pig Arena and win prizes -New game+ feature that includes multiple bonus endings--a mechanic I blatantly stole from Chrono Trigger

[lilislegacy]

So a lot of people talk about Percy becoming darker and crossing lines in Tartarus but I think a less talked about moment is when Percy got Bob to “kill” Hyperion. One of the reasons this moment is so startling is not just because we don’t view it from Percy’s perspective but because of how much a similar path Percy has been taking to Luke recently.

One of the reasons I think Percy really hates Luke for most of the first series despite I think mostly agree with him is that from his perspective Luke was the type of person to use his relationships with people as leverage. Annabeth, Thalia, Silena, even Percy. He was willing to use people’s trust and affection as a tool to further his goals. And Percy who values loyalty above all else, finds that to be a evil trait of his.

I don’t think in the end Percy hated Luke but that was the aspect that he may have unconsciously drew between them.

Then in Tartarus we have Percy using his friendship with Bob to manipulate him to “killing” a relative while hiding info from him.

It’s a really dark turn that I sure wish was addressed or followed up on!

The poison control is whatever, but this is the real moral tightrope.

this is really interesting

and i agree! i’ve always thought the reason percy hates luke so much, and hates being compared to him, is because luke betrays and manipulates people who trust him. percy himself, who’s defining trait is loyalty, thought luke was the first person in the demigod world to be his true friend. and then found out luke’s generous “gift” to him was meant to drag him down to the darkest pits of hell. that’s… pretty extreme betrayal. then to find out luke willingly poisoned the entire camp - his former home, his family’s home - is beyond percy’s understanding. then not to mention everything he did to annabeth, and thalia, and grover… luke is a traitor, which is the exact opposite of percy’s moral structure. hence percy never wanting to be compared to him.

but like you said, percy is a lot like luke in many ways, whether he likes it or not. however, i will say that when luke asks others to do things for him, it’s for his own personal agenda. but percy asking bob to kill hyperion was so that way percy and annabeth could make it out alive and save the world. so i have to give credit where credit is due. percy had overall good intentions.

BUT, as much as people don’t like to admit it, percy can be a real asshole. the fandom likes to make percy into this sensitive, emotional, defenseless little girly pop who’s favorite activity is braiding hair. (they also make him dumb). and as much as i do love sensitive guys like that, it’s not canon percy at all. percy is usually a sweetheart, it’s true. he’s a gentleman; very kind, funny, and reliable. but percy is also a tough ass dude. he’s rough around the edges. that was the whole point of seeing him from other POVs in HoO: percy’s view of himself is NOT how anyone else sees him. he grew up in freaking new york city. he skateboards and gets into fights and cusses like a sailor. he has an unpredictable temper, sarcastic humor, and doesn’t put up with anyone’s shit. he’s the reckless, quick-to-anger, super powerful half-god son of poseidon, and he’s done some really harsh things. there’s a reason people find him intimidating as hell. and as loyal and kind as he is, and as much of a mama’s boy that he is, he can also be really insensitive to other people’s emotions. remember how he treated upset annabeth in BotL? remember how he treated nico… many times? remember how he was an asshole to leo? and to jason? it’s just that sometimes when others are going through hard things, percy kinda seems to have a “ok and? we all go through unfair shit” mindset, or just doesn’t even think about it. he does realize this about himself in tartarus, which is why he feels so bad for using Bob in the past, and being unappreciative of Nico. as percy grows, he becomes a better man. but he’s still not the sensitive and emotional type, and can be really damn ignorant.

so i definitely think you’re onto something when you talk about how he used bob. and while i don’t think it’s the same as luke, percy has done things - harsh and insensitive things - similar to luke. a realization that would probably send percy into a dark place.

[puppyluvfics]

NSFW Alphabet | Kim Jungsu

Kim Jungsu | WC: 1.4k Genre: smut Summary: nsfw alphabet game thing Warnings: this is just. PURE filth. I'm sorry. (No im not). NOT proofread, just straight up rambles. A/N: X is excluded bc i will Not be writing about him in that kind of detail <3 Thank u anonie for requesting this one <3

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

I feel like he would be really giggly afterwards, but still really caring, y’know? He’d need a minute to lay there and pant and breathe and giggle with you, praising you and saying things like “I don’t understand how it gets better every time” and just breathlessly saying “wow” before he’d roll over and smother your face in kisses.

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

Okay hear me out. The butterfly tattoo photos keep me up at night thinking about how much he would love to have his neck marked up and how he’d be so proud to see that… not that it’s his favorite part about him, but it would easily become his favorite when he’d see the hickeys you left.

As for his partner, I think he would fall in love with anything he could just grab at… thighs, stomach, love handles, your chest, literally anything he can grab and hold onto… OR BITE??? Yeah. Yeah…. 

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

And if I say he loves backshots, then what? Getting right to the edge and then making a mess all over your back, grabbing onto your hips to hold you steady while he lets go? Yeah… yeah. 

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

So I said biting right? I don’t know if it’s a secret, per se, but I think he would love to leave bite marks on you that would be at least partially visible when you go out, like biting your shoulder before you’d go out wearing a big tee shirt so if it slid over, anyone could see the mark… possessive boy.

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

On a scale of 1 - 10, I wanna give him like a 5… I feel like he knows his way around pleasure and knows how to make you both feel good, but he hasn’t really ventured into kink, yknow? But I do think he’s a very good listener so if you asked him to adjust something or do it a certain way you like, he would in a heartbeat.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy or Cowgirl, for sure. Doggy because of the backshots and ability to grab at you, but cowgirl because he could just reach up and grab at you and watch you feel good, almost using him, but not really, yknow? AND THEN??? Cowgirl but he’d pull your down onto his chest and grab at your ass so he could take control… yeah…

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

I know I said he’s giggly afterwards, but I don’t think he would be during. It’s not some big serious thing where it has to be the right moment and he has to make it super sweet, but he is not fucking around when it comes to fucking you.

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

Not going into detail but I think he’s somewhere between trimmed and all natural… like in a constant state of 2-3 months after shaving, yknow?

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

This isn’t to say he isn’t a romantic, because he absolutely is… just not really in the bedroom. Of course, he’d make sure you were okay and feeling good, but it’s almost always rough and hard and intense.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcannon)

Looks around. Taps the mic. He would jack off with your panties, especially if you were apart for a while, he’d miss you that much that just the thought of you and that small piece of fabric in his fist would get him over the edge…. And then of course, he’d return them and pretend nothing happened :)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Honestly? I don’t think he’s much of a kinkster… if anything, marking, but that’s less of a kink more than it is just him being possessive and needy.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Somewhere private, but not necessarily at home, yknow? Like if you were the only two people at a movie, he’d put his hand between your legs and tease you the entire time… and car sex? He’d never say no to the idea of it.

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

He’s easy to tease, we all know that. But I think the idea of you teasing him in any capacity, sexual or otherwise, would get him going, because he knows he can take control of you and have you on your knees in 2 seconds if he wanted… that cat and mouse dynamic really is something.

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

There’s a very distinct line between rough and intense and genuinely hurting you… he wouldn’t be into choking or slapping you in the face, at all

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

He’s not against giving, because he could grab at and bite on your inner thighs, but he’d like receiving more. After a long and stressful day, if he saw you drop to your knees and offer to suck the stress out of him, he’d be in bliss. Just the fact he could tangle his fingers in your hair and watch you worship his cock would mean everything to him.

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

Y’all already know - hard, rough, fast, intense.

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

He’d be down if you were… it would still be intense and passionate, but if he needed to blow off a little bit of steam and you were willing, he’d absolutely bend you over the couch or the table or counter and have at it.

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

I wanna say no. He doesn’t seem the type to want to venture into kinks, even basic ones. He likes control, sure, but you have a good dynamic - don’t fix it if it ain’t broke.

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

Oh now see…. He is absolutely the type to come twice. Not back to back, but he’d come once and still need you so badly that he’d take a bit to recuperate, using that time to get you off a time or two before needing to be inside you again.

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

He’s not anti-toy, he just likes to be the only one making you feel good, and he’s shameless, you feel better around him than any toy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

GOD HES THE TEASE. Grinding against you when you’re cuddling, grabbing at you and whispering “mine”, lazily running his fingers up and down your body acting like it’s all innocent…

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

Soft grunts and moans, lots of heavy breathing, without a doubt. He’s never going to be screaming, but growling in your ear, reminding you that your his, low little exclamations like “fuck” and “take it”

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

This is so out of the blue, but I can’t stop thinking about how if you’d ask to cockwarm him while you were at home watching a movie or tv… he’d be into it but he’d lose control so fast, reaching around to tease you and saying things about how he can’t help that you’re so tight around him that it makes him need to fuck you.

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

He can take no for an answer and be okay with it for sure, but if you’re down, 5/7 days a week, one of you is going to come. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Immediately after aftercare, for sure. Once he knew you were okay and feeling good and you didn’t need anything other than him by your side, he’d be out like a light, some part of him still touching you, either his arm around your waist, his hand in your hair or his leg wrapped around yours. 

[a-fools-circus]

Salacious Want

Papa II/f!Reader

Desc: after confessing to Secondo how you've spent your time alone, he makes sure you know that the only person allowed to touch you is him Word Count: 6.3k Tags/Warnings: bondage, bdsm, impact play, degredation, edging/orgasm delay/denial, rough sex, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, choking, dom/sub, ownership, creampie, aftercare, bc aftercare is important and i want to showcase that i think Secondo fits the duality of being both a rough dom and a tender loving dom, please note that there is one moment when the reader claims to be overwhelmed, but every moment of sex beforehand and afterwards is consensual with both participants willing

this was originally intended to be a fic for Kinktober. obviously that didn't end up working out, BUT i still wanted to write this bc i liked the idea, and i've yet to give Secondo some love so here it is ! this ended up being very fun to write and way longer than intended so i think it's a win. Secondo stans i'm starting to understand you. enjoy babes <3

also available to read on ao3 here

Minors DNI/NSFW below the cut

It was only a few hours ago when you were sat in the shadowed corner of the confession booth. The only thing separating your figure from Secondo’s was the wooden lattice in the center. 

Secondo had been preoccupied with his responsibilities all day. It wasn’t his fault—the workload came with his status as Papa. You didn’t blame him for it, and he was adamant to remind you that he would rather spend his time with you. But you were left on your own. You had to sate your desires—by yourself—in private whenever you had the time. It was boring after the second or third time. Your own touch wasn’t nearly the same as his. 

You knew the risks that came with teasing him (most of which would come from him), but the opportunity presented itself perfectly when you realized that he would be hosting confession. You couldn’t help yourself. You had to do something to coerce him, to convince him to focus on you instead. Taunting him with the knowledge that he missed out on your pleasure seemed like the perfect way to rile him up. 

Armed with your knowledge, you taunted him from your shadowed corner of the booth, detailing every aspect of your indulgence. Every sound you made, every fantasy that crossed your mind, every part of yourself that you touched—it all came forward in your own kind of confession. 

Secondo was good at appearing disinterested. Annoyingly good. You could get on your knees and beg for an hour straight, and he wouldn’t bat an eye. He knew he could make you do whatever he wanted when you were desperate to be touched, and he used it to his advantage often.

But his silence from the other side of the confessional was more than feigned disinterest. You could practically feel the disapproval radiating through the lattice, somehow knowing he was staring with that stern gaze he only gave you. He was most intimidating when he was silent, but it was even more nerve-wracking not to be able to see his reaction. 

You made it worse by reminding him of his responsibilities; he had to continue carrying out the rest of confession for the following Siblings. You made your way out, leaving him to stew in his frustration as he was forced to ignore the aching arousal between his legs. That was the nail in the coffin. 

Once time granted him respite from his duties, he wasted no time finding you. 

Now you were sat on your knees on his bed, bent over with your face in his silken sheets. You were completely bare except for the collar around your neck and the restraints that bound your arms behind your back. You were placed near the edge of the bed, instructed to “keep your ass in the air and stay still.” 

You couldn’t see Secondo, but you could sense his steely gaze scanning every inch of your body as he stood behind you. There was no doubt he could see how wet you were; after what felt like hours of sitting here bound, you were getting desperate. 

The click of his shoes on the hardwood floor is the only sound in the room. Every echo of the sound makes you throb, your holes clenching around nothing. You’re sure that sight is obvious to him, too. But he says nothing as he looks over your restrained body. The anticipation in the air is thick, heavy on your mind as you wait for him to do or say something—anything. 

After what felt like an hour of staring, he finally reached a hand out to brush over your thigh. The cool texture of his leather glove surprises you. Secondo’s touch is featherlight, barely grazing your body as it slowly trails inward. His pace is maddening, and you know he’s doing it on purpose.

The trail of his hand stops when his fingers hover daringly close to the spot he knows you need him most. The space beside you on the mattress sinks as his knee comes to rest there. Secondo leans over you, still barely touching your skin. 

“Who does this pussy belong to?” Your senses heighten as the sound of his voice finally caresses your eardrums. You tilt your head just enough to catch a glimpse of him. 

He’d discarded his regalia at this point, now wearing only the black turtleneck and dress pants he sported underneath. Just the sight of him made you want to pounce on him and make up for lost time. But you contained your impulses, humoring his demands as the threat of his dominance made you ache.

You swallow hard. The face paint he hadn’t bothered to clean off only made him look more intimidating. “You,” you whisper back to him. “You, Papa.”

“Mm. Bene…” His husky-toned affirmation almost makes you whine. “Then why did you touch it without permission?”

Secondo’s words catch you off guard at first. You start to speak, a tiny squeak leaving your mouth, but the words fail to form. You look away in embarrassment. Your eyes catch on the obvious bulge that strains against the front of his pants.

Suddenly, he grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging firmly until your shoulders rise off of the mattress. Secondo leans in further, his breath warm against your ear. The scent of patchouli and tobacco floods your nostrils. “You will answer when I ask you a question, yes?” He growls, the sound of his voice rumbling in your ears.

You swallow hard, eyes fluttering shut at the pain on your scalp. “Yes, Papa—”

“Look at me.” You do exactly as he says, your body thrumming with desire as your eyes flicker up to meet his. “Why did you touch yourself without Papa’s permission?”

“Because, I…I was desperate, Papa.” Your heart pounds in your chest at your confession. Judging by the way he scoffs, you assume your response isn’t satisfactory. 

“Desperate?” Secondo echoes. You nod in agreement. “What, desperate to make yourself cum just so you can tell me what a disobedient, needy whore you are?” The leather of his gloves squeaks as Secondo tightens his grip.

The degrading term sends a surge of arousal through you. The sensation is only heightened by his grip on your hair. “No, no, Papa…I…I just wanted to be touched. I really, really needed it.”

“Oh, is that it, piccolina? You just needed to be touched?” You nod fervently, humming a small “mm-hmm��� in reply despite the blatant mockery in his tone. “Perhaps I should remind you how you taunted me, then. The way you told me how hot and wet you were when you fucked yourself? How you came so quickly by your own hand?”

Secondo punctuates his annoyance with another firm tug on your hair. You whine, hissing slightly at the soreness in your neck. “I…I didn’t mean it, Papa,” you manage to choke out. “I just…wanted you to know how much I missed you…How much I need you.”

“It sounds to me that the only thing you ‘need’ is a lesson in restraint, sì?”

A whine rumbles in your throat at his suggestion. You want to fight back, to argue and prove your point, but that would only garner more punishment. You nod in response before realizing your muteness is unsatisfactory. “Yes, Papa.”

Secondo releases your hair and you fall forward, your face planting into the sheets. He rises off of the bed to return to his place behind you. His hands run teasingly over your body with gentle brushes that give you goosebumps. A shiver runs down your spine as his hands move further down. 

You barely feel two of his fingers glide through your slit, your wet arousal gathering on his digits. You don’t know when he removed his glove, but you relish in the warmth of his bare hand instead of the cool leather. Your hips roll towards his touch in an attempt to gain any of the friction he seems to deny you. Your wrists twist in their restraints. His fingers spread you open to reveal your entrance. 

“Look how wet you are,” he taunts. The leash attached to your collar rustles before being pulled taut. Your head jerks back, your shoulders lifting off of the bed as your back arches. You can feel Secondo’s cock—hard and straining against his pants—as he presses against you. “Open.” You hear him growl. 

The demand sends a wave of heat through you. You comply, but you’re barely able to part your lips before his hand moves away from your cunt and his fingers force their way down your throat. You fight off the urge to choke in order to remain obediently willing. 

“You wished to show me how much you needed me, sì?” You nod, humming around his fingers. “Show me, then. Take my hand like you would take my cock.”

You eagerly heed Secondo’s words. Your mouth sucks and licks his fingers with enthusiasm, savoring the taste of your own arousal as it coats your tongue. You ignore the way your body aches from the awkward position he’s contorted you in. Saliva seeps from your lips and dribbles down your chin, escaping you as you swirl your tongue around his digits the same way you do with his cock. 

“Greedy little mouth…” Secondo growls as he watches you intently. His hand stays firmly enveloped in your mouth as he presses his body against yours. You groan around his fingers when you feel his cock press against your ass. “Look at you, drooling all over yourself, pretending my cock is down your throat. You look so desperate.”

You shift on the bed, trying to clench your legs together in a desperate attempt for friction at the sound of his degrading tone. Secondo notices immediately. His hand slides out of your mouth, not caring that strands of saliva spill from your wet lips, and delivers a harsh smack to the swell of your ass. The sound echoes in the room. The sudden sting makes you cry out, your eyes widening in surprise. 

A firm tug on the leash makes you choke momentarily. “Keep your legs spread,” Secondo growls, his hand reaching down to tug at your thigh and force your legs apart while the other pulls the leash taut. “If you can’t be good, you aren’t getting touched.”

Your hands tug at their restraints, fists clenching with frustration. “I’m…I’m sorry, Papa. I’ll be good, I promise. Please touch me, please.” Your words come out in a flurry, rushed and desperate, as you pant for breath.

Secondo’s hand releases the leash, allowing you to fall forward again. His hand immediately snakes around your waist to land on the space between your thighs. Saliva-wettened fingers land on your clit and swirl in agonizingly slow circles. Your breath catches in your throat, a shaky gasp leaving your lips. Your hips jerk into his hand as a silent encouragement. 

Another sudden spank takes your breath away. His hand stops its movements and you whine. “Stay still. You’ll only take what I give you, sì?”

You nod, sighing dejectedly. “Yes, Papa.”

It takes all of your strength to keep your hips in place and resist the urge to grind into his hand when he continues to swirl his fingers. Your thighs tense and your mouth falls open with whimpers and moans. 

Secondo barely increases his pace at the sound of your pleasure. Your hands ball into fists in their restraints, a low groan ripping from your throat. You curse, desperately using every ounce of control to keep your hips still.

“Mia piccola puttana…she can be good when she wants to be, hmm?” He tilts his head, watching your pleasure-contorted features. His hand speeds up slightly and you gasp.

“Yes…Papa…Fuck…”

“She likes it, doesn’t she?”

“Yes…Yes, Papa, I like it…” Warmth pools in your abdomen, winding tighter with each swirl of his fingers. Your thighs begin to shake as you lose the battle of staying still. Your hips thrust desperately forward, eager to hit the orgasm that lingers so close to fruition. “Please, Papa. It feels so good…fuck..!”

Secondo pulls his hand away mere seconds before the warmth spills over. You cry out, a high-pitched whine ripping from your throat as your orgasm slowly dissipates. Your hips buck forward as if trying to chase his touch.

“Why did you—?”

“You don’t deserve to cum yet.” His voice is stern, leaving no room for argument no matter how badly you want to. “Poverina…you did not think I would give you what you want that easily, did you?” Your lips part to respond, but the words get caught in your throat. “Such a greedy whore…you made yourself cum and you think you deserve it by my hand?”

“I’m…I’m sorry, Papa. I won’t do it again, I promise.” You whine, grinding your ass against him in a silent plea. The roll of your hips is slow as you feel the outline of his rigid length through his pants.

Another harsh slap comes down on the swell of your ass. You gasp, the sting coursing through you and halting your movements. “Now you think you deserve my cock?” Secondo’s grip digs into the skin of your hips as he accuses you, his grasp so tight you can almost feel the bruises begin to form.

“No, no, Papa. I don’t.”

“No, you don’t.” He taunts. His hand massages the red handprint blooming on your ass, soothing the lingering sting. “Are you going to start being good for Papa?”

“Yes! Yes, I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good.”

“Bene…” He gropes your ass, the tight grip making the welts forming on your skin sting. “Now be a good girl and ask for it. Nicely.”

“Please, Papa…I want you to touch me. Please touch me.”

Secondo scoffs at your plea. “Now I know you can beg better than that.”

A whine builds in your throat, but you swallow hard to contain it. “Please, please, please, Papa. Please touch me. I need it so fucking bad.” You pant. “I need you. I need your touch. Please.”

Without warning, two fingers push past your entrance and stretch you open. You gasp at the sensation, cursing as Secondo pumps his fingers at an unrelenting pace that gives you no time to adjust or savor the feeling. Your nails dig into your palms as you whine at each thrust of his hand. 

“Fuck! Yes, yes…” You cry out, your cunt throbbing around his fingers. “Thank you, Papa. Fuck me…”

Secondo’s other hand holds you in place, gripping your hip so tight you think it’ll leave bruises. His fingers curl, searching for that sweet spot that’ll leave you crying out. As soon as he hits it, you curse in a loud gasp, your back arching to push your hips into his touch. He massages the spot with each pump of his hand, sending waves of pleasure through you that make your toes curl.

“Fuck, Papa! Yes, yes, yes. Right there. Right there.” Your moans fill the room, your cries reverberating off the ornate walls. Each plea is louder than the last. Your arms tug at their restraints, your hands flexing, desperate to hold on to something, anything.

Secondo groans, his voice husky. “Desperate whore, all worked up by my hand. You love it, don’t you?” You nod and mutter a small “mm-hmm”, too overwhelmed with his pace to form a proper response. “Fottuta troia,” he growls, taking a fistful of your hair and tugging until your shoulders lift off the bed. He leans over you, his fingers still pumping with their unwaveringly strong pace. “You answer your Papa, sì?”

You wince, whining at the mixture of pain and pleasure that courses through you. “Yes, Papa. I…fuck—I’m sorry, Papa,” you manage to squeak out between moans.

“Tell me how much you like it. Tell me how good my hand feels.”

“It feels…so fucking good, Papa,” you whine. Your words aren’t enough, evident by the way he tugs on your hair again for encouragement. His lack of response has you on edge. “You fuck me so good. I-I love the way your hand feels in my pussy.”

The tight grip on your hair is unrelenting. The awkward position you’re held in makes your back sore, but the pleasure granted to you overrides any discomfort. Warmth builds in your abdomen yet again, swirling and coiling with the need for release. Your thighs tense, your walls tightening around his fingers as your pants grow quick and loud.

“Oh, fuck…I’m…P-please…” Your voice quivers as you beg. “Please, Papa, can I cum this time?”

Secondo nuzzles against your neck, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. “Oh, dolcezza,” his words seem sweet, but you recognize the mocking in his tone. “Asking like that, you almost have me convinced.” His fingers pull out of you, a wet, squelching noise accompanying their retreat. “Almost.”

The whine that escapes you is even louder, even more desperate than before. “No, Papa…why did you…” You stammer and whine, unable to form a complete sentence. You almost feel like you could cry as the coil of warmth slowly dissipates. He releases your hair, a grunt escaping you as you fall forward onto the mattress and he moves away. “Please touch me again, I can’t…I need to cum.” Your hips roll in the air, desperate for some form of contact.

“You need it?” You hear him echo, almost as if he’s mocking your plea.

You nod your head and hum a small “mm-hmm” with a whine. “Yes, Papa, I need it. I need to cum so fucking bad.” You shiver when you feel his fingertips reconnect with your heat for just a moment, barely grazing over your folds. “Please, just keep fucking me. I was so close, I—”

Secondo cuts you off with a harsh spank, the sound echoing in the room. His hands hold tightly onto your hips, dragging you backward until your ass is flush against his body. And his achingly hard cock that strains behind his pants.

“Greedy whore thinks she deserves to cum already…” He mutters as his hands trace the swell of your ass.

“No…no, Papa, I didn’t mean that…” You pant, your breath heavy. “I just…fuck, I want it so bad. Please…”

He goes silent as his hands continue to trace gently over your skin. The silence heightens both your nerves and your desperation. Finally, his gruff voice breaks the silence. “Tell me again, cara: who does this pussy belong to?”

“You, Papa.”

“Bene.” He presses his body more firmly against you. A quiet whimper escapes your lips at the feeling of his cock so close yet trapped beneath layers. “This pussy is mine. Mine to use and fuck whenever I feel like it.”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Say it.”

“My…my pussy is yours, Papa. Yours to use, yours to fuck.” You swear you feel his cock throb behind his pants.

His torso presses against your restrained wrists as Secondo leans over you. If you weren’t so afraid of being punished and denied any longer, you’d grab ahold of his shirt and tug him closer. His hands move to your hips, where his nails dig into your skin. “You cum when I tell you to. When I decide you deserve it.” His voice is a sultry whisper, like a smooth velvet that wraps around your senses. It makes you want to forget about your own desires. 

You nod, sighing at his words. “Yes, Papa.”

“If you pull another stunt like that—taunting me with your impatience—I’ll tie you up and make sure you don’t cum for hours. Do you understand?”

The thought makes you shiver in a mixture of arousal and fear. You swallow hard, nodding your head again. “Y-yes Papa…”

“Are you going to be good for Papa?” His hips roll against you, and while the friction isn’t stimulating for you, it makes you gasp nonetheless. 

“Yes,” you choke out. “Yes, Papa. I’ll be good. I promise.”

“No more touching yourself without Papa’s permission, sì?”

“Yes, Papa.”

His hands squeeze your hips, but the gesture is more playful than painful. “Molto bene.”

Secondo ruts against you, dragging the bulge in his pants along the curve of your ass. He groans before moving to grind against your slick heat. The wetness of your arousal seeps through and stains the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less. 

One of his hands slides up the arch of your back, avoiding your restrained wrists and caressing your spine. “You want Papa’s cock, sì?” 

“Yes. Yes…please, Papa,” you whine breathlessly.

His other hand trails down your hip and over the swell of your ass before groping you firmly. His grasp is rough, making the welts that have formed from his spanks sting. “Beg for it, puttana.”

You sigh in frustration at his words. “Please, Papa. Please put your cock in me.” You fight with every ounce of restraint to keep your hips still. You want nothing more than to rub and bounce your ass against him, to hear him groan and curse at the friction. But you know doing so would earn you another punishment. “I want it—I need it—so fucking bad. Please, please.”

Secondo leans away from your body. The loss of his touch leaves you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yearning harder for him. “She needs it, she says…” You hear him mock you as the faint sound of a zipper catches your attention. 

You groan at the familiar feeling of his cock as the rigid and warm flesh lands on your ass. Secondo wraps one hand around the base, his other hand gripping your hip as he guides his cock to the space between your legs. He barely brushes against you, only allowing enough contact to cover himself in your slick arousal. The light friction makes you whine.

It’s not until you feel the head of his cock rub against your swollen, neglected clit that you stop whining and start panting. It’s even harder to stay still, especially when his pace is so languidly slow. 

Your toes curl with strain. “Papa, please…I can’t…I can’t wait anymore…”

Another harsh spank comes down on your ass, making you hiss. “You can, and you will.” He growls. “Be good.” He continues the light and gentle grinding, his hands moving to rest on your ass and spread you open for his viewing pleasure. “Sathanas,” he curses, the sound making you throb and clench around nothing, which he certainly notices. “Così bagnato per me...you are a desperate little whore, aren’t you?”

“Yes, fuck yes, Papa.” Your nails dig into your palms as your body tenses in anticipation. “Please give it to me.”

He slides his cock along your folds, moving back and forth in long, sensual strokes. He pulls back to guide the head of his cock to sit at your entrance and grazes it teasingly, never pushing forward with enough force to enter you. You know he’s savoring the way you whimper and squirm. You groan, the sound turning into a whine.

“Please, Papa…” Your voice is breathless at this point, so desperate you could cry. “Please, please, I can’t wait anym—Ah!”

You’re cut off by his sudden, forceful thrust forward as he buries himself inside you with one movement. The stretch of your walls stings, making you hiss and curse. Your wrists tug at their restraints and your thighs go tense as he immediately starts a rough and unrelenting pace, giving you no time to acclimate to his intrusion.

Each thrust is met with one of your loud and desperate moans. Secondo runs his hands over the curve of your hips, his thumbs rubbing gently over your skin in a manner that completely opposes his rough movements. He groans, the sound sending heat to your core, and you feel him lean over your body. 

The leash suddenly goes taut. Your head is lifted off of the mattress, strangling your moans as they leave your mouth. “This is what you wanted, sì?” He growls into your ear, punctuating his question with a set of firm thrusts. “To be fucked hard and rough like the whore you are?”

“Yes! Fuck…fuck, yes…” You cry out, voice strained against the collar around your throat. “Thank you, Papa, thank you…Lucifer below, it feels…so good…”

He leans back and pulls the leash with him. His free hand holds your hip tight, his grip strong enough to make you ache. He groans, cursing something in Italian under his breath, before spanking you again. Your walls flutter around him at the pain. “Dillo di nuovo. Tell Papa how good his cock feels.” His voice is low and rough, practically a growl, as he pounds into you.

“Your cock feels so fucking good, Papa…” Your eyes flutter shut as your head becomes light. Your moans and whines are guttural, choked out by your collar. “I love it…I love the way you fuck me…Don’t stop, Papa.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on it, puttana.” Secondo punctuates the word with a particularly rough thrust, making you cry out with a strangled moan. “You’re going to cum for me—when I tell you to.”

The room fills with sounds of your pleasure; moans and cries leaving your lips and the repeated, quick slapping of skin against skin. His own groans hit your ears and excite you further. He pounds into you with a relentless rhythm, quick and hard thrusts that make your body tremble under him.

“Papa…I’m gonna—fuck…” You feel your thighs shake, unsteady as the warmth in your abdomen tightens.

“Not yet.” He snaps back. He tugs on the leash again, making your head lighter as air escapes your lungs. “Solo un’altro po…”

It’s almost impossible to hold on any longer. The heat that swirls in your abdomen coils tighter and tighter with each thrust, the impending release crescendoing with no sign of stopping. All you can choke out is a quiet, strained “please” in between his powerful thrusts. 

Secondo groans at your tight and wet heat, the sound turning into a slight chuckle that reverberates in your ear as he leans in. “Poverina…you need it, don’t you?” His voice is light and sweet despite the mockery in his tone. You nod before muttering a small “yes, Papa” in return. “Cum for me, tesoro. Cum on Papa’s cock.” He growls in your ear, his pace never wavering.

It takes only a few more of his rough thrusts to send you over the edge. The sound that leaves you is one you didn’t know you could make: a loud and guttural moan built up from constant denial that spills involuntarily from your lips. Your entire body tenses and trembles underneath him as waves of pleasure make you throb and clench around him. His pace never changes, working you through the high until your muscles go lax. 

His thrusts slow down until they become slow rolls of his hips against your weak body. He releases the leash, letting your head fall against the mattress with a soft thud. His hands trail over your breasts as he leans to place a small, gentle kiss on your back between your shoulder blades. 

“I’ve never heard you make those pretty sounds before.” He mutters against your skin. His hands knead your chest as he continues to roll his hips against you languidly.

A weak smile forms on your face. “I…I told you I was desperate,” you pant between heavy breaths. You groan with each of his thrusts, the leisurely pace doing nothing to soothe the overstimulation. “Thank you, Papa. Thank you for—ah—letting me cum…”

His hands trail down your body, his touch tracing your curves before returning to your hips as he leans back. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, dolcezza.”

You barely process his words before he pounds into you again. He wastes no time finding another intense and rough rhythm. Your body tenses as the overstimulation makes you whine, your hands balling into fists as they tug at their restraints. You cry out, your body shaking under the power of his thrusts.

“Fuck, Papa! Shit, shit, shit…”

Secondo’s deep groans fill the air, complimented by the wet sounds of sex. “Merda. I didn’t think you could get any tighter.” One of his hands lands on the small of your back, purposefully avoiding your bound wrists.

Every thrust sends a shock wave of pleasure through you, surges of overstimulating ecstasy that course through every inch of your body. It’s an overwhelming sensation, making every muscle tense and every moan and whimper more desperate than the last. Your noises only spur him on, each pathetic sound met with a powerful thrust that makes you whine louder. 

“Papa…fuck, I can’t…it’s too much…” Your knuckles turn white as you ball your hands into fists. The overstimulation hurts, but the pain only adds to the pleasure he gives you. You trust him enough to know he’d drop everything if you were genuinely hurt. But right now, he knew you had no interest in stopping.

The leash suddenly goes taut, your head lifting off of the mattress again at his sudden tug. He spanks you again, your cry strangled by his sharp tug on the leash. “Fucking take it,” you hear him growl. Another spank makes you whine. “You’ll take my cock until I’m done with you, puttana.”

You groan at his words, your back arching into his thrusts. “Y-yes, P-Papa…”

His thrusts turn sharp and quick as he ruts against you. It’s primal and needy—almost animalistic—the way he moves. Each slap of his hips against your ass makes you hiss, the welts left from his hand stinging at every movement. Your body remains tense, every drag of his cock along your walls causing you to clench around him.

“Così fottutamente buono...questa figa è perfetta, tesoro…” You can barely hear his low, husky voice over the sound of skin meeting skin. Secondo tugs again on the leash, making you groan as your head jerks back. He leans down until his breath hits your ear. “You’re going to cum again for me, dolcezza.” His tone is clear—his words are a command, not a suggestion. “I want to feel this pussy milk my cock.”

The vulgarity in his words makes you whine. “Yeah…yes, Papa—fuck, I wanna milk your cock dry.”

“Sì, that’s what you want, giusto? You want Papa to cum in you and fill you up?” He growls in your ear, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

“Fuck, yes. Yes, Papa, I want your cum…Please, pump me full.” You strain to speak against the tight collar, but your plea is loud and desperate. 

You can hear his breathing growing heavier. You can tell he’s getting close. He shoves his cock as deep as he can as his thrusts turn into forceful rolls of his hips as he grinds against you. The friction makes the marks on your ass sting. 

Secondo’s free hand snakes around the curve of your hips, wasting no time finding your swollen and aching clit. His fingers swirl in time with each movement of his hips. The rhythmic pace between his deep penetration and the delicious friction of his hand makes you writhe under him. 

You curse, your hips jerking wildly into his hand and against his hips, too overstimulated to find a rhythm. “Papa…Papa..!” You cry out and whine as your eyes screw shut. 

He knows exactly how to make you tremble, all of the movements that send you closer to the edge and make you melt under his touch. The repeated clenching of your cunt makes him groan and curse. 

“Fuck, Papa! I’m gonna…Sathanas, I’m gonna cum again, shit…” You feel your thighs shake and tremble, every muscle in your body tensed as the heat in your abdomen returns, mounting to a high.

Secondo pants, tugging on the leash again. “Dai, dai…cum for me, cum for Papa.”

The dual pleasure leaves you unable to resist, the sensations overwhelming your body. Your second orgasm is even more intense than the last. Your body shakes and your moans turn into whines as the pleasure leaves you overwhelmed. You don’t even notice the few tears that escape as you writhe and tremble. He works you through the high, his hand swirling perfectly against your sensitive core to prolong your pleasure for as long as possible. He only removes his hand once your whines turn to hisses. 

The continuous, rough movements enacted on your overwhelmed body borders on pain. But you know he’s close, evident by his heavy breathing and groans as he pounds into you with the last of his strength. His grip is tight on your hip as the other hand holds your leash taut to keep your body in place.

With one final powerful thrust, Secondo stills as he spills himself into you. You feel every kick and pulse of his cock as he fills you. He groans, growling something in Italian, but you’re too far gone to comprehend it. He releases his grip on the leash, allowing your head to fall to the mattress.

Your body goes lax as he pulls out of you. Both of you grunt at the sensation. A wet squelch fills the air as you whine at the emptiness, too accustomed to his presence despite how overwhelming it feels. Your hips fall flat on the bed as you pant for breath and groan at the soreness in your back. 

A wave of relief courses through you as your wrists are released from their restraints. The ache in your shoulders is painfully evident now that you can move freely. You roll onto your side, blinking heavily as you look up to see Secondo’s face. 

His paint is smeared in various places, streaked by beads of sweat. His chest heaves with his own heavy breaths. You get the urge to scold him for exerting himself at his age.

He leans over you, reaching down to unfasten the collar around your neck. You instinctively tilt your head to make the process easier. You sigh when the garment is removed, allowing your skin to breathe and give your neck a break. Your eyes are heavy as you watch him place the collar and restraints on the nightstand with care. 

Secondo leans down again, running a hand through your hair. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Un momento, bella,” he mutters against your skin before leaning away.

You watch as he walks in the direction of the adjoining bathroom before he disappears past the doorway. A small smile graces your face. It was easy to get intimidated by him, by his steely gaze and guarded demeanor, but he showed you a tenderness that no one else could match. 

It was never as evident as it is in these moments. When he walks back into the room with a damp washcloth in his hand, your heart swells. He always takes the time to treat you so gently after sex, especially when it’s rough. 

He cleans you carefully, running the washcloth over your flushed skin. He moves you with a sense of care and worship, like you’ll shatter beneath his touch if he isn’t careful. The warmth of the wet fabric is soothing, making you sigh with each stroke. He occasionally leans down to place kisses along your skin.

Once you’re clean, he lays the cloth on the nightstand. You know he’ll retrieve it later, probably after you’ve drifted off to sleep. He guides you to lay against the pillows, helping you move in your sore state. You groan at the aching pain in your body—the sting of your ass, the soreness in your shoulders, the aching of your back. He runs a hand over your thigh, fingers barely grazing your skin as his touch trails over the swell of your ass. 

“You’re still red,” Secondo remarks. You feel the slight tingle of discomfort, your skin warm from the welts that have formed. “You must still be sore.”

You can hear the concern in voice, almost as if he regrets what he did. “It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt that bad. I’ll be okay.”

“You’re sure?”

You smile at him, at his worry. “Yes, I’m sure.” You extend an arm towards him, beckoning him closer with your hand. “Now come here. I want you to lay with me.”

“Oh, is that right?” He teases. Despite his sarcastic tone, he’s already kicking off his shoes. “Is that what you want?”

��Yes. It is. You need your rest too, old man.”

You hear him scoff before he climbs onto the bed and situates himself beside you. “‘Old man’, huh?” He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close until your back is flush against his chest. He’s careful to keep distance between your hips so as not to irritate your welted skin. “Stai attento, mia cara. You wouldn’t want another punishment so soon, would you,”

You giggle at his words, laying your hand atop his arm and pulling him closer. You groan as you settle against the bed, attempting to allow your aching body to relax. You feel his arm move away from your waist. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, his thumb massaging firm circles into your sore muscles. The gesture makes you smile, your head turning back to look at him.

“You don’t have to do that, Papa.”

“Oh, of course I do,” he responds, his hand working towards your shoulder blades. His lips brush over your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “Mia piccola bellezza was so good for her Papa. She deserves to be taken care of.” His lips land on your neck, trailing kisses down to your shoulder. “You’re always so good for Papa,” he mutters between kisses.

He leans in to kiss you, and you turn to meet his movement. The gesture sends sparks through you. You smile against his lips, pressing into his kiss and relishing in the warmth that blooms in your chest. 

You don’t know when you fell asleep after that. You laid there, allowing him to tend and care for you however he felt necessary. Not every touch was meant to massage or tend to your sore muscles, but you didn’t care. Just having his hands on your body was enough. 

This was how he showed his love to you, and you found nothing but comfort and security in his arms.

[003soy]

Kat’s Character Overanalysis of Murasaki

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

The content below may exhibit multiple instances of confirmation bias due to over a year of brain rotting.

Do not proceed if you dislike excessive analysis of characters that only appear in official tweets and random merchandise.

I treat this guy like an oc so don’t be mean to me ok 💔 just my headcanons and personal observations!!!

Viewer discretion is advised…

Ok so I'm going to start with the basic stuff (i.e. inkipedia)

From 2015-2018(?) Murasaki was the drummer for the band Squid Squad. He was the youngest member of the group.

While this excerpt from Inkipedia may seem small, there are a lot of traits described here that can be further analyzed (if you have nothing better to do)

The Squid Research Lab describes him as rough around the edges.

The term "rough around the edges" is used to describe something that has small imperfections, but is generally good. When describing a person it can mean someone who is unsophisticated or impolite. In this instance, "rough around the edges" could be describing Murasaki's drumming skills as he's said to have potential, but he also needs some practice.

this characterization was probably made to resemble his appearance as well! (sea urchins don't have very smooth edges...)

2. Murasaki is referred to as a wild child.

A "wild child" is usually someone (likely a young person) who is headstrong, rebellious, and/or uncontrollable. To me, this info matches nicely with the impolite interpretation of the phrase "rough around the edges."

3. From here, it sort of goes on about his playing which I sort of addressed in the first point. Basically, he has a natural gift in drumming because he has a good sense of rhythm, and despite lacking in technique, he always tries his best.

4. He is prone to crying

The Squid Research Lab states that he could be caught crying during a drum solo which goes to show how much effort he puts into his playing :). I feel like this part tends to override his other traits in fan stuff (if he gets included at all). I personally view this as a subversive aspect of his personality. Normally he has an abrasive personality because of the rebelliousness and lack of manners, but he is also a sentimental person and his emotions are expressed through tears even if he isn’t sad (samee). Think of how urchins have a spiky hard external shell that hides soft uni inside of it ok...

5. Energetic

I know the energy think is probably referring to his playing style, but I picture him to be a fidgety person who doesn't like to stand still. I guess it matches with the wild child thing.

6. He's the youngest

Expains the previous behavior. rude + rebellious + more talent than practice. teenager.

Moving onto other sources! Bye Inkipedia...

Here is the original japanese text of the Squid Research Lab info on twitter. Yes, I know google translate isn't that accurate, but I think it's interesting and deepl says something similar as well.

7. Ignoring the strange grammar, Murasaki is additionally described as mischievous (やんちゃ?). Definition: playful in a naughty or teasing way or troublesome/irritating.

I guess this was translated into the wild child in the english version because I'm assuming the term in japanese refers to more childish behavior. I think the word mischievous is easier to understand though since I've never heard the term wild child before. Anyway, he's silly.

8. I sort of glossed over this in the english version but apparently he can take the lead when it matters most. In english, the phrasing kinda made this confusing. I thought they were just saying words lol. Anyway, this ties in with him trying his best while in the band + being compassionate/sentimental.

topic-adjacent kinda. I've seen people interpret this in a sort of sad way, but I interpret this as him being mischievous! I think he's walking towards them to scare them. The little star next to his head reminds me of the animal crossing mischief emote.

another bonus thing because it shows that hes silly. a silly goose. I think he likes to doodle.

God I haven't even gotten to the splatune articles yet...

yeah this kinda repeats what I already said but here it says his playing fits well with Ichiya. I think that both of them are kinda similar. Both are sort of lacking in technique but make up for it in other areas. Both have ADHD (lying). To me, Murasaki is if an asshole turned out to be kind, and Ichiya is if a kind person turned out to be an asshole. #crazy

Splatune 1! No more numbered list I forgot what number I was on :)

Cool and edgy urchin

I have no idea what that means. Ok.

Cool means cool.

I don’t know if they mean edgy in the internet way because ???... Anyway, edgy can mean: 1. tense, nervous, or irritable, 2. trend setting, daring, or provocative. I think the word choice was for the sake of an urchin pun.

I think they meant to convey the second definition by saying hes cool and unconventional (I don't think it makes sense to say someone is cool and nervous in the same sentence). Kind of matches with being rough around the edges. I like to apply the first definition sometimes though. I like to stress him out.

he boldly pushes up to the front like a blaster

information about his drum playing is information about his personality! this relates to his previously described energetic playing. I like how this sort of frames him as unusual compared to other drummers. It shows how his playing style relates to his character... energetic, headstrong, he can lead the way if necessary. all things previously stated.

mean to him :(

I think this is trying to say how the others keep him around even though he doesn't match the theme. They keep him around because he looks cool? (this information is probably useless because machine translator. grain of salt)

very brief splatune 3 cameo

can drink in bars now? (old...)

likes to talk in circles (old...)

looks depressed now. aware of the horrors... evil leg bouncer...

thats it for official stuff i think. I like to add on bonus traits to him during the front roe era, but yeag ✌️

[commsroom]

hi so your excellent eiffel posting has made me obsessed with the man. so i thought i should share some headcanons i have with the source of my fixation.

im not sure if it's disputed in canon, but i think eiffel used to curse A Lot More than he does on the hephaestus. i know this is mainly a metatextual thing to do with explicit labels, but i like to think that the reason he self censors a lot in the show (cutting himself off, substituting with less harsh words) is cause part of getting sober also involved unlearning his cursing so that anne wouldn't hear it from him. something about not wanting to expose her to the harsher side of the world that he's lived in his whole life.

i also think eiffel is a velcro shoes guy (understandable and based) and can't tie his own laces if he has laced shoes. HOWEVER, he can tie someone else's shoes cause he learnt how to tie anne's for her. retranslating those motor skills in a first person perspective has proved difficult for the galaxy's least co-ordinated comms officer.

anyways thanks for posting about this guy and i would love to hear any thoughts you have!! hope u have a great day

thank you for sharing your eiffel thoughts with me!! ♡

okay! about eiffel swearing... to an extent, i think both things are true? like you said, he canonically self censors - i think are space suits itchy? is a good example in this particular context; it definitely reads as "eiffel bleeping himself out because it's funny" and not any sort of external intervention, to me - and there are quite a few times where he almost swears, but gets cut off. and there's a note in the script for quiet, please that reads: "if this were HBO, this is where eiffel and minkowski would both swear profusely." (incidentally, also the episode that gives us "eiffel stops what he's doing and holds up a rude gesture.") most characters in wolf 359 would probably swear more frequently if they were not in wolf 359, but eiffel is particularly interesting because i think it does... kind of by nature sand down some rough edges he has, but that the show can only suggest?

i know i bring up the fact he lists sex and porn as two of the things he misses about earth semi-frequently, but i think it's genuinely kind of fascinating that he's a textually sexual person who can only express that through quips like, "there's stuff in a man's brain that's really not safe for work." it's kinda a balancing act. i think those aspects of who he is are worth keeping in mind, and i think wolf 359 being... the type of show that it is (and isn't) might give a softer / skewed perception of him, in the sense that people would probably view him a little differently if some cruder elements of who he is weren't expressed so indirectly. but, at the same time, the way he self censors is part of his characterization. and in part i would believe he tried to train himself out of swearing as an aspect of his sobriety, and how he spoke around anne (because he really wanted to be a good dad, but also because he really wanted to come across well during the custody battle.) as an extension of that, it's also one of the ways he's trying to rehabilitate (+ fictionalize) the idea of who doug eiffel is.

(realistically, he definitely feels there are a lot of things he shouldn't do, but he clearly didn't give up smoking. and he was probably adamant that he wouldn't smoke around his daughter, but he's a chain smoker, and it's still on him and in his clothes. a lot of things with eiffel come down to a conflict between his intentions + ideals and what effect his actions actually have. i'm sure he still slipped up and said plenty of things he shouldn't have. like i said, it's a balance.)

personally, i think eiffel is a (socks and) sandals guy, and otherwise... while velcro would probably be more practical for him, in my mind he's just got perpetually untied shoelaces. he can tie them, but they come untied no matter how he does it. and if you asked him if he can tie his shoes properly, he would get defensive about it and fumble and take a really long time to do it. he's also definitely the kind of person who uses rhymes, sayings, etc. to remember things, even things he does often. nothing more reassuring than a guy doing complex mechanical maintenance muttering "righty tighty, lefty loosey" to himself.

[purity-town]

Ask responses below the cut! Digging into Andrew/Alalia's immortality, the doll, and the design of the town/region it's in.

Yeah!! (To both questions!)

Although the blog header image is a screenshot from one of my playthroughs, it’s just a random one that I thought would fit nice enough -- I haven’t actually built out any of the comic’s locations in-game. I can share a couple of rough thoughts I’ve had how it would look, though!

As far as Purity Town itself goes:

Purity Town is located in the forest/purity biome and has the background of the lake and snowy mountains.

The Tavernkeep, Merchant, Nurse, and Clothier have shops in the main part of town.

This center area is paved in stone (think Pelican Town from Stardew Valley) and has a slightly raised area (think like a fountain design) for the forest pylon.

Andrew lives out on the edge of town more in the woods, and a little ways past his home is a fenced overlook that looks down on everything.

The Zoologist also lives slightly outside of town with the Golfer, but in the opposite direction.

All of Purity Town is built in soft, rolling forested mountains/hills.

Most of the buildings are constructed from wood and brick, but with the exception of the tavern are painted different colors.

Since I’m on the subject -- as far as the general locations go, Purity Town itself is the largest settlement, but there are several other, smaller villages linked to it through the pylon network. NPCs generally live in their favored biome when applicable, with the exception of some of the hallow/cavern biome enjoyers living in Purity Town proper instead.

The snow biome village is located up in the snowy mountains visible from Purity Town, and an unnamed village is located by the sea.

The desert village is built around an oasis.

The jungle village is built around platforms elevated just above shallow pools of water. The area is surrounded by dense foliage from mahogany trees.

There’re currently no cavern or glowing mushroom villages/pylons.

Andrew is fully, 100% aware of the existence of the doll, and is roughly familiar with its limitations. He was present for its making, and though it’s since been lost to him, he has a general idea of what happened to it (being a powerful item that fell into the hands of a demon).

He’s not particularly happy about it, nor is he really in a position to try and get it back, but it’s been a number of years since the doll’s creation and he’s learned to live with it. At least the doll’s existence means Chris will be able to use it as a proxy, rather than Andrew having to be there in person; it provides a little mental separation for both of them.

For Alalia, she came into existence years before the Moon Lord first appeared, when the world was more wild and dangerous than the modern day. So I don’t think it’s out of the question that she died a couple times from assorted beasts and the likes, particularly while she was new and inexperienced. While a violent death is never fun, being a creation/aspect of Terraria likely made her resurrection experience itself less unpleasant than it otherwise would be, and upon being revived she was a bit shaken up but otherwise unharmed. She would have had other Dryads to comfort her, which helped -- they’re functionally immortal beings, and through their long lives most would have died and been revived at least a few times.

And then the Moon Lord appeared, and suddenly when they died, they didn’t come back. The world is different now, and no new Dryads have manifested since, though Terraria has recovered to a point where she can revive Alalia when necessary.

Andrew’s first death was accidental -- he didn’t know the ins and outs of how his whole “thing” worked, nor did he really understand how important he was that he’d be resurrected where few/no others were. I’m not totally sure when his first death would have been, but probably relatively early in his life -- his mother/mentor still being alive at that point, and him still living in his home village. Him still either assuming he’s entirely mortal, or slowly beginning to suspect unnatural longevity.

Resurrection is unpleasant at minimum, a natural consequence of one’s entire self being pulled back into the living world -- depending on the circumstances, the experience of being revived can be worse than dying proper. Though from an outside perspective, the affected simply appears and reawakens in their home some time after death.

I imagine Andrew didn’t even register what had happened at first; I don’t have any specific ideas for what killed him the first time, but upon waking up he very well could have dismissed everything as fever dreams associated with a near death experience. Assuming that someone had saved his life, only to learn he had truly, actually died. And then having to process all of the implications of that, and his own trauma, and deal with his family, etc…

Andrew has never been outright blasé towards his own deaths, and tries to avoid it where possible; outside of the obvious inconvenience/discomfort, he’s still a human (more or less) and isn’t above basic instinct. But he knows now that he’ll be resurrected, and in the case where it does come up, he brushes it off publicly as a consequence of him being a Guide. And when push comes to shove, he'd rather he be killed and resurrected if that can prevent someone who is mortal from dying in his place.

[fxoye2]

i love asking you stuff about characters and reading your replies. it feels like you understand them so well and you delve into their psyches and personalities and struggles with such passion and care, and love. you genuinely give so much reasoning and explanations for why they are that way and prompt people to look past the superficial aspects and actually consider their roots. i am genuinely interested in your thoughts about snw Spock. you seem to be one of the few people here who actually don’t straight up hate him and actually give valid opinions about why he is the way he is, and why he is not TOS spock yet, despite most fans hating that version of him. i am one of those who don’t really like how he’s portrayed but i feel like that’s because i am so used to TOS spock snw spock just feels.. wrong. i would love to understand him better from your perspective since you seem like a really thoughtful person and your analysis are always on point.

Oh my gosh, thank you so much for this! I’m genuinely honored that you enjoy my ramblings about these characters because I get so emotional and attached when it comes to Spock (in all his forms). I completely get why SNW Spock doesn’t sit right with you (and a lot of people), especially when you’re used to TOS Spock, who’s just this untouchable, beautifully alien, and deeply queer-coded character. But I’d love to help you understand my take on SNW Spock and why, despite his rough edges and some questionable choices, I think there’s a lot going on with him beneath the surface that we can explore and appreciate.

First off, I totally agree that SNW Spock is hard to relate to for TOS fans because he’s so much more humanized and… well, messy. And that messiness can make him feel like a betrayal of the Spock we know from TOS, who is all about restraint, logic, and this very dignified alienness. But here’s the thing about SNW Spock: he’s not supposed to feel like TOS Spock yet, and that’s not an excuse to justify everything he does—it’s about showing us a version of him that’s still in the process of becoming.

SNW Spock is still figuring himself out—and I mean that in the most profound sense. At this point in his life, he hasn’t fully accepted that his human side isn’t something to hide or suppress. He’s still caught in this place where he believes he needs to earn acceptance, whether from Vulcans, from Starfleet, or even from himself. He’s trying to fit into these societal molds, and that’s where a lot of the disconnect comes from when you compare him to TOS Spock. In TOS, Spock has already done a lot of this internal work, but in SNW, he’s still deep in that struggle.

Let’s talk about the “relatability” issue, because I think this is where the heart of the discomfort lies. A lot of fans, especially queer folks, have always found Spock relatable because of how unrelatable he is. His alienness, his restraint, his sense of always being on the outside looking in—those are things that resonate so deeply with people who feel different from the world around them. SNW Spock, on the other hand, feels more traditionally relatable, in a very human, almost insecure way. He’s awkward, he’s unsure, and sometimes, he’s even a little bit emotionally sloppy. It’s a jarring shift from the Spock we know, and I think that’s what makes it feel wrong to a lot of people. It feels like they’re stripping him of his alienness and making him “just like us,” when part of what makes Spock Spock is that he isn’t like us.

But here’s where I think it’s important to dig deeper. SNW Spock’s relatability isn’t supposed to be comfortable. It’s supposed to show us that he is uncomfortable. He’s not at peace with himself yet, and that awkwardness we see, the messiness, the moments where he’s not quite as restrained as we’d expect—that’s a direct reflection of the fact that he’s still struggling to reconcile his two sides. He hasn’t yet learned to embrace his human emotions or his Vulcan logic fully, and so he’s in this liminal space where he’s trying too hard to be something that he’s not.

Take his appearance, for example—the fact that he’s fit, perfectly groomed, and polished. This isn’t just about looking good for Starfleet. It’s about control. It’s about Spock trying to hold onto something, anything, that makes him feel like he’s in charge of his identity. By keeping himself physically perfect, he’s projecting an image of control and discipline, even though inside, he’s far from it. His appearance is his way of compensating for the chaos he feels internally. He hasn’t reached the point where he’s comfortable letting go of those superficial markers of success and perfection. And that’s why he feels so different from TOS Spock—he’s not yet secure enough in who he is to stop caring about how others perceive him.

Now, the really tricky part: his relationships with women. I know this is one of the biggest sticking points for a lot of fans, especially because TOS Spock never really shows any interest in women, and his bond with Jim feels so queer-coded and deep. So why is SNW Spock out here kissing women? Is it just bad writing? Is it erasing his queerness? Personally, I don’t think so.

To me, Spock’s interactions with women in SNW are another symptom of his internal conflict. He’s following a script—a script that says if a woman shows interest in you, you’re supposed to reciprocate, because that’s what people do, right? At this point, Spock is still so wrapped up in what’s expected of him that he’s not acting out of genuine desire; he’s acting out of a sense of obligation. He’s not comfortable enough with himself to reject those scripts yet, and he hasn’t fully realized that his feelings don’t have to align with societal norms. It’s not about homophobia or heteronormativity, exactly—it’s about Spock still figuring out what he wants, and until he understands that, he’s going to go along with what he thinks is “normal.”

But here’s the thing: it feels out of character because Spock is out of sync with himself. He’s not fully Spock yet—he’s in this awkward, uncomfortable stage where he’s trying to be something he’s not, and we’re watching that play out. It’s uncomfortable for us because it’s uncomfortable for him. He hasn’t figured out that he doesn’t need to fit into those expectations—whether that’s maintaining a perfect appearance, or engaging in romantic relationships that don’t actually resonate with him. That’s what makes his portrayal in SNW feel so disjointed from TOS Spock, but it’s also what makes it interesting. We’re watching him struggle, and struggle is never pretty.

And that’s the part that I think people hate, because we want Spock to be Spock—this wonderfully strange, alien figure who doesn’t fit in because that’s what makes him so relatable to people who don’t fit in either. But SNW is showing us the painful process of him realizing that. Right now, he’s still trying to perform, to meet expectations, to fit into a mold that was never made for him. That includes his relationships, his appearance, and even how he carries himself emotionally. He’s not out here kissing women because he’s suddenly straight—it’s because he’s trying to follow a path that doesn’t suit him, and he hasn’t yet figured out that he’s allowed to forge his own way.

So, I get it. SNW Spock feels wrong because he’s supposed to feel wrong—he’s still out of balance, still trying to reconcile who he is with who he thinks he needs to be. But that’s what makes this era of his life so important. It’s the uncomfortable, awkward, messy part of his journey where he’s still learning that he doesn’t need to meet anyone else’s expectations to be enough. He hasn’t learned yet that his humanity isn’t something to suppress, but something to embrace. He hasn’t yet figured out that it’s okay to not fit in, and that trying to be perfect all the time is a losing game.

SNW Spock is searching. He’s trying to find himself in a world that’s constantly telling him to be something else, and that’s why he feels so distant from the Spock we know and love. But that discomfort? That’s part of the process. It’s hard to watch, especially when you love TOS Spock’s alienness and queerness, but it’s a necessary step for him to get to a place of peace with himself. He’ll get there, but for now, he’s still lost in the mess of trying to fit in. And that’s what makes him so human, even if it’s uncomfortable to see.

[zeroducks-2]

strapping you to a chair and forcing you to write fluffy sladick >:3

Reporting live from the chair I've been strapped to, have some fluffy Sladick!

(I used this other ask to give myself a prompt, I hope you'll see it anon!)

5. "Sing to me" Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson

Dick has never been a fan of the rain, even if living in Gotham he needed to get used to it if he wanted to survive. It doesn't mean he has to like it, and the way the city is perennially covered by layers of polluted air and stormy clouds is his least favorite aspect of it.

However. Sprawled on the bed with way too many pillows propping him up in a semi-sitting position, the wall-sized windows of the loft letting him see the entirety of Gotham bay, the way it's engulfed by clouds, the soft patter on the glass... well, that he's been enjoying greatly. He's been at it for a while now, just resting like that and watching the rain fall on the gray sea, and by this point he's hungry and would get up if he could, but he doesn't dare move. Not with Slade currently sleeping face down against his chest, an arm partially wrapped against Dick's middle.

Dick has fingers running through his hair, slowly and gently enough not to rouse him, and listens to his heart beating in an uncharacteristically slow way. They had a rough night. He knows he'd be dead, wasn't it for Slade. Slade would be dead too, wasn't it for Dick. At least they're even, he thinks with a half smile, and if this isn't the first time he and Deathstroke exchange favors, it never happened before that once the mission was over, they'd found themselves kissing and groping each other under the relative cover of an isolated alley.

«Little bird.»

Dick doesn't flinch because he's used not to, but his caress halts if only for a moment. «I thought you were sleeping.» He says and it's true, not much changed in the way Slade's breathing and his heart is beating, he might be sleeptalking for all Dick knows.

«I was.» Slade straightens up but remains over him. He doesn't lean against Dick's chest anymore, instead cages him with his own. «But, I understand you might want to go.»

Dick smiles and leans in to close what little space there is between them and kisses him, and their bodies are not touching anymore so he can't be sure, but he could bet that the man's heartbeat picks up.

«I'll stay until you're fully healed, okay?» He says but barely even finishes the line because a hand comes up on his cheek and there's another kiss, deeper this time, more urgent. Like Slade was still gripped by adrenaline after seeing Dick get nearly decapitated.

«Yeah.» The man says, appearing to forcefully pull away but their foreheads remain touching. «Stay as long as you wish.»

Dick frowns and brings both arms up to hold him, recognizing apprehension when he sees it. «I'm alright.» He says, straightening up on his knees so that they can embrace properly. «I'm not hurt. You made sure I wasn't. Please don't be worried about me.»

«I know, Dick.» Slade replies and runs a palm down Dick's naked spine, and he frowns, realizing that this is the first time the other calls him by his first name. «I'm not worried. I'm just glad you're here with me.»

He widens his eyes and feels his face flush, not knowing what to say or do with what he just heard. He doesn't break the embrace and searches the edges of the bandages he himself wrapped around Slade's middle; that's what prevented them from actually tearing each other's suit off in that lane, the night before. The fact that Slade was bleeding out, the wounds too severe for his healing factor to take care of without assistance. At least they managed to get to Slade's safehouse. Or, well, whatever this luxurious loft in Gotham Central classifies as.

«Sing to me?» Slade asks, holding him back and breathing in once dipping his nose into the hair on the side of Dick's head. «Like you did last night.»

Dick smiles, he thought Slade was passed out and didn't even realize. He nods and lies back down with him, letting him rest against his chest again, then hums an old song from his childhood.

Thank you for asking Jelly and anon ♥ Here's the prompt list for whoever wants to peruse it, or send me another prompt :)

[sotwk]

Hi! :) it’s the anon that hasn’t given up on dating yet, I noticed I tend to want to rush relationships, even stressing myself out in the process, like I’m 25yo and I know I should know better lol

I wanted to ask for some advice this time, do you have any advice on taking things slow while dating someone? Or in like just trusting the process without putting pressure on myself? Because I don’t have this problem of being almost abrasive with friendships, it just happens with romantic relationships but maybe it’s because I just started dating people this year so I’m extremely rough around the edges in a romantic sense

Also this is just a quick vent, but a guy came off super strong at first and was taking things pretty fast but when I finally matched his vibe, suddenly things were going too fast for him and he wasn’t ready for a relationship and dipped even though he knew from the start that I was looking for a relationship lol

I'm so sorry it took me so long to respond; I usually try to respond to advice-seeking Asks right away, but August was a bit of a struggle for me!

I'm glad to hear that you haven't given up on dating, and I hope you never do! I'm sure you've gotten sick of hearing this, but 25 is so young! Your 20s are very much the time to figure out what you want and value most in life. I genuinely hope girls don't give in to the pressure to marry right away in their 20s, because a lifelong commitment to a human being is the last thing to be rushed.

Regarding my "advice on taking things slow while dating", my one golden dating tip sounds lame but is straightforward and irrefutable: BE YOURSELF. From everything you have told me in this Ask and in previous Asks, your goal in dating is to find a husband to start a family with. Present your genuine self as much as possible from the start, and expect the same from the guy you are dating. (Unless your intention is to casually date, then much of my advice need not apply; I've personally never been one for casual dating, but it's always sounded like the Wild West.)

It's common and understandable to worry about coming on too strong or too "abrasive" as you said, especially in the "get to know you" stages. But I don't think tamping down your genuine excitement by "playing it cool" ever really works. You're essentially lying about your feelings and important aspects of your personality. What good will that do?

If you're afraid of scaring the guy away, here's the thing: the Right Guy for you will not scare easily. I promise. The Right Guy is the one who will grow only more interested and eager the more he learns about you, which is why you should present him with only truthful things.

How fast or slowly should you share stuff about yourself? However you feel like! If you're honestly comfortable enough with a person to be vulnerable and open up to them right away, then go ahead! Whether a guy can or cannot handle your candor, your passion, or your desire to connect, is something you're better off knowing sooner than later.

Sadly, in this day and age when dating is so difficult and confusing and human connection has deteriorated, guys tend to scare more easily, and I can't say I blame them. However, I repeat: the Right Guy for you will not scare easily. He would be the one matching your pace and enthusiasm for the relationship, if not surpassing it. That experience you spoke of means that guy was just not the Right One, plain and simple. You didn't do anything wrong.

Keep doing as you do. Be Yourself and trust in what you feel when engaging with new acquaintances. I hope I've been helpful or at least encouraging in some way. I wish you lots of luck, fun, and pleasant experiences in this stage of your life. <3

Bonus: If this movie isn't too old for you and assuming you haven't seen it yet, I recommend watching "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days"! It's a fun and sweet rom-com, that doesn't take itself too seriously but definitely teaches lessons along the lines of my advice. ;)

[thesecretsofthedivine]

The Zodiac (Sun) Signs Pt. 4

Cancer/Cancer Sun

positive manifestations (evolved Cancer): loyal, full of emotional depth, observant, imaginative, and cautious.

negative manifestations (unevolved Cancer): codependent, emotionally volatile, manipulative, prone to escapism, and stagnant.

As the first water sign of the zodiac, Cancers wield an intimidating amount of emotional depth and have a sort of parentified role in comparison to the other signs. Being ruled by the Moon, their main concerns are to honor the past, protect their emotional investments or relationships, use their feminine charm to their advantage, intuitively interpret the energies around them, and carefully assess material opportunities. Generally, Cancers are known for identifying with tangible objects, the home, their ancestry/personal history, emotions, and so on. Because of this disposition, Cancers can be more prone to become hoarders, overly nostalgic, biased when making decisions, or avoidant of change than the rest of the zodiac. This sun sign tends to act from the heart but can have a hard time prioritizing their own needs above others’. Their emotional disposition often fluctuates like the tides or the different moon phases (depending on other placements or aspects within their chart). They are dependable, artistic, observant, cautious, and complex. The personality of a Cancer sun is typically introverted or slightly rough around the edges (due to the exterior of their hard shell). This is someone who spends most of their energy on things that will bring a return on investment. Cancers value quality over quantity and understand that some of the best parts of life require time or consistent nurture. These individuals can be paranoid of being taken advantage of so they will do everything within their control to reduce risk and seek out long-term or trustworthy commitments. Additionally, they may have a smaller social circle or private reputation as a direct influence of their trust issues and reluctance to put themselves out there fully. They are motivated by a need for security, spiritual fulfillment, emotional expression, conservation, and reciprocated care. In this lifetime, their main soul purpose is to balance worldly advancements with emotional needs. Because of their ability to anticipate others’ needs paired with precise venture skills, this zodiac sign is qualified for many business or hospitality roles. You may find that Cancers are drawn toward paths such as artists, cooks, interior designers, writers, actors, etc. This sign’s physical body is often round or full and their energy levels are usually reserved. Because Cancer rules the midsection area, these individuals can have plump looking body parts in these areas or be most vulnerable to midsection-related tension. In terms of masculinity, Cancers are the opposing feminine force (yin energy). Oftentimes, this zodiac sign enters this world with inherited burdens or a sense of responsibility, which allows them to become their own authority/resemble an authority figure for others. Depending on the potential positive or negative manifestations of this energy, a Cancer may have an extremely respectful and stable relationship with their father or one that lacks consistency and emotional fulfillment.

Sun in Cancer Transit

When the Sun enters Cancer, you may notice more homebody tendencies or a decrease in energy levels. Cancer season is often characterized by meaningful domestic memories, slow and mindful progress with your goals, using the arts to process your emotions, forming cozy routines, and relying on intuitive epiphanies. Cancer season teaches you how to persevere through hardship by carefully assessing the resources around you and forming a better understanding of your internal needs. Of course, this transit can affect every person’s birth chart in different ways and will be most relevant to any Cancer placements/Cancer-ruled house(s) in a chart. But the general consensus is that Cancer season can influence you to reassess your comfort zone or habits and discern which aspects of your behavior are helping you to mature or are just keeping you blocked. When the Sun is in Cancer, the collective energy is a little territorial and sensitive to their surroundings. People may often find themselves taking on more responsibility, making emotional purchases, having vivid dreams, revising their close relationships, or reconnecting with their past. During this time, individuals are most concerned with making moves behind the scenes or pondering the mysterious forces at play in the Universe. However, it’s important to be wary of any moodiness, suspiciousness, bias, passivity, or reluctance in your behavior. The themes of Cancer season heavily involve conquering any meddling forces and residing in a secure paradise of your own making.

[pomplalamoose]

Esb Luke relationship hcs pls ☹️☹️ -💫

Hello my dear! Thank you for being the very first person to send in an anonymous Luke ask, I'm very excited about this🫶🏻🩵

• before we get fully into it, I think it's important to note that ESB Luke is having a hard time and realistically, it would be difficult to develop a relationship under these rather extreme circumstances

• plus, here are some more questions we will have to take into consideration: when and where did you meet each other? Are you part of the ✨main character gang✨ or a simple member of the rebellion?

• either way it will influence your relationship with Luke and not always in the best way

• if you two have known each other for quite some time now, say since the beginning of ANH or even before that, it will be easier to be or to get close to him than later on

• like I already mentioned there is a lot going on and Luke, along with Leia and Han, has a very heavy burden to shoulder

• also we can't forget about his character development: while I think of ANH Luke as sweet and enthusiastic, ESB Luke is the same BUT more headstrong, stubborn, very impatient and kinda rough around the edges

• if you are there to witness everything that's happened to him and what he is currently going through now, it's easier to be more understanding of his behavior, otherwise it will be a tad harder; not only getting to know him in the first place will be a struggle but also being the patient and possibly more adult part in your relationship might be straining

• on the other hand, if Luke spots you for the very first time during ESB and likes what he sees, chances are high he will immediately go for it and seek you out

• he has no time to lose, he is busy and everyone could literally die the next day so he won't think about it twice

• of course Luke is still Luke and despite everything happening around you two, he is, above all, kind and empathetic and only ever has your best interest in mind

• that might not always be apparent though and when he leaves for Dagobah without telling anyone, that also includes you

• in his mind it's obvious he's doing everything he can to save the people he loves (most importantly you) but how are you supposed to know when he's not talking to you about it

• and while you already worry about him most of the time anyways, his disappearance not only would break your heart but also make you angry

• communication is key in every relationship, even or especially in the middle of a war and it has always been a somewhat sore spot between you two from the beginning

• not the romantic part, Luke is vocal about his feelings and let's you know just how much you mean to him and exactly what he would like to do to you if you were to be alone for just a minute

• no, I'm talking about the fact that if he comes up with one (1) single thought or plan, he will pursue it straight away

• sometimes this is very much to your advantage but more often than not you have to suffer the consequences when you search for him and are suddenly informed that he took another trip away with his group of friends and may or may not be dead already

• talking to him about this is difficult as well because how are you going to tell a man you are hurt/angry/disappointed about being forgotten about or feeling left behind when he just lost one of his hands and discovered that your worst enemy is his dad

• also since you two have no idea that Leia is his sister yet, it could possibly lead to you being jealous and him not having any idea what to do about it because, Leia IS very beautiful and he's not going to deny it

• there will be lots of misconceptions and sadly I don't think there is a possible way for you to avoid them

• when I say you will need to be patient, I mean it

• now that we have that out of the way, there are many beautiful aspects as well

• you are always on his mind, never leaving his thoughts

• what he does, he does for you

• once you wrote him a sweet letter or note and unbeknownst to you he keeps it on him at all times

• he tucks it away in one of his many pockets, hides it in his x-wing or tells R2 to keep it safe

• when he has a moment to himself he unfolds it to read it again and again, no matter that he already has it memorized

• over time it will start to fall apart, disintegrating from all the use and, somewhat shy, he will eventually ask you for a new one

• upon his returns back to the base of the rebellion he always has a little gift for you; a pressed flower, a snack, pretty mechanical parts or stones he finds laying around

• if there is nothing physically for him to keep he'll gift you a kiss

• he will be so excited about that too and make it super dramatic, telling you to close your eyes before smothering you with a hug and kisses until you squeal

• while we're on that topic: he gives the absolute best hugs! When his strong arms fold around you and hold you close there is no place you'd rather be

• during his short times staying with you and the rebellion you like to have secret sleep overs, sneaking around at night, seeking each other out to share a cot, giggling like children

• (you're not as subtle as you think you are and everyone knows what you are up to)

• when he eventually finishes his training with Yoda and you meet again he's so attractive it makes your jaw drop

• he was good looking before, but the way he carries himself now, takes your breath away

I think that's it for now, yayyy! In case you want more or would like me to elaborate some points, just let me know <3

[shivstar]

My take on Slytherin Sirius Black

I can easily picture prongsfoot as rival, were they not sorted into the same house. The spark will be there, of course. They are equal when they are friends and they will be equal when they become enemies.

Though I think that when they were friends, they played a very important role in the other person's life that formed into their canon personalities.

Like how Sirius felt loved and cherished. Allowed to make mistake and learn from them in a secure environment because James wont scorn him.

James on the other hand learned the cruel realities of life from Sirius. I mean yes remus still will be his werewolf friend. But what happened to remus is like an extreme case but with Sirius he learned about how sometimes in life the people close to you and those responsible to take care of you, hurt you the most.

I think that being Sirius's friend helped him learn responsibly towards friends, wife and son.

Also I have this theory that the things my parents handled pretty well while parenting me, I could be bad at those aspects of parenting myself. While the matters for which I have complaints towards my parents, I will remember to not repeat them with my kids.

So applying that concept. James who is sheltered and spoiled won't know much about being a good parent until he acknowledge that some parenting can be bad without parents having any ultimate evil motive.

Another thing i feel is that Sirius played a really monumental role in canon James getting together with lily. Like how in swm he tells James that lily thinks he is conceited. Remus and Peter never had the guts to be candid with James. Sirius was the only one who grounded him.

So I conclude in a world where James doesn't gets Sirius as his friend, he will have problems getting a balance footing in early adulthood. He will require a little more time in learning himself without his soul mate. Following that logic I feel that in Slytherin Sirius universe James won't be married with kids at the age of just 20.

Sirius on the other hand will have a bitter and pessimistic attitude towards life in general. But to make him a loner is a sin in my dictionary. Even depressed post azkaban sirius who was without James had formed good relationship so why so many writers write him friendless and pathetically alone is beyond my understanding. His animagus is dog and they like company.

I agree that yes nobody can be James level but that is true in reverse for James too. But implying that he can't form other important relations without James is too cruel a characterisation if you really are a fan of canon Sirius.

Also I feel that despite being a snake, he will still rebel as much as he can. He is a morally strong person and just because he wears green doest means he looses his goodness.

He will be a lot more callous without James to smooth his rough edges. He will still have a loyal group of friends in Slytherin house who will trust him and he will trust them. (If you believe like jkr that all Slytherins are evil and bad people than i don't even know what to say....)

He will have a career post hogwarts. Maybe a healer or curse breaker Or animal whisperer lol... I picturise sirius to be too restless to just sit around and do nothing...

He will still struggle with his family. Just because he is a Slytherin doesn't mean that the sibling rivalry and animosity bw him and Regulus will vanish. I mean common. I have never seen two brothers who had stable relationship in their teen years.

So I can easily picturise an enemies to lover prongsfoot. (Single/ unmarried) James Potter who is almost lost and purposeless about life in general. Sirius who feels bitter towards life but shows nothing on the outside.

Them meeting and realising the similarities of their problems. The effortless connection. A beautiful love story.

( P. s. - I really would like to read one where James has not got a wife and kid in a Slytherin Sirius fic. I like my protagonists untied and free and clean of this particular baggage to explore that dynamic without their partner being the issue in them being together.

Like their rivalry and character growth would be enough for angst without involving lily and harry.)