#the impact you leave on others is the most important aspect when it comes to living right? It can determine if someone else keeps going

[geospiral]

Moran doodle. Shout out to girls who are constantly contemplating their own mortality

[lifeonmarz-blog]

Every planet in the 12th: Observations

The 12th house shows you in which ways you can leave the biggest impact on the world in the purest most intentional way if you so choose.

*I didn't feel like proof reading spare me*

sun in the 12th often misperceived or seen as having underlining motives even when that is furthest from the truth. Actually quite often upfront with their intentions regardless if they know more than they've led you to believe. The projection others put on them is veryyy high, sun person unconsciously triggering deep seated wounds in others while they just assume they’re having a normal conversation. They either love gossip or are always being brought up in gossip. Attracting secret admirers bc of the taboo aspect of their personality. They teach others how to be themselves through example and that gives them the popular loner vibe, everyone wants to know whats going on in their life. Though Its often not as interesting as the stories that are being created about them (probably at home chilling). Unintentionally very funny their light hearted nature makes others feel comfortable. They know how to create warm welcomes. They can read animals minds. They dress how they feel. Escape artist. Probably through music, film or imagination. Gift for photography.

moon in 12th romantic relationships have a big influence on these people. They'll change their whole life around to fit into their lovers life for better or worse. Naturally harmonious these people are seemingly unsuspecting until you piss them off then you realize they just choose to keep peace. Prone to escapism usually through some sort of creative pursuit turned business. Obviously not forward with their feelings ppl tend to label them as having their head in the clouds when in reality they have plans its just nobody else's business. There's a love/resentful relationship with the mother. The mother could've been a physical provider but not emotional. These ppl had to nurture and comfort themselves and it made them very good at being those things for others. Children and animals loveeeee them. They are givers and don't mind sharing for the greater good. Dependable and persistent they can stick out something they feel is important. But if they don't care... Oh its very obvious. That job they don't like? Oh don't even worry about it they'll quit. They don't like feeling stressed or unharmonious and don't mind removing anything thats trying to hinder that. In the lower natures this creates a person that ignores anything that would make them have to readjust their behavior. Extremely delusional and misreads the room quite often. Very emotional changing how they feel about you frequently. It can become hard to give and receive trust.

Mars in the 12th manifest things/experiences so easy especially through their connections. They know how to put themselves in the right rooms with the right people. They date people that improve their social standing and they do the same in return. When its comes to career they could've seemed like the runt in the group but they grew themselves to be well respected in their field. Often hearing ''you only got this because''. They attract a lot of haters jealous of their success or the way they got their success. these people are attractive and naturally have a body others envy, they always have options and good ones at that.

Venus in 12th boy oh boy the hopeless romantics, but whats so hopeless about it? Others may often wonder why you picked the person you did viewing you as opposites. There may be an age gap or cultural difference. The women often choose partners that have a different social standing or perception than their own. The Men do the same though their more willing to be in relationships with unrequited love. Have had their fair share of infidelity issues until they found the person that would ride or die for them and vise versa. Privacy and trust are high priority for these people. Very good at socializing they know how to read what is needed to improve the energy of a space. Their parties/hostings are always so inviting and rememberable. They work very well with children and animals. Especially those in need. Fostering is something they wouldn't mind doing, along with nursing things back to health. Examples hair, nails. Plants etc. Very crafty they'd create beautiful jewelry and clothing. Their style is unique and acquired taste even. Controlling an image or narrative comes natural these Pol could do damage control for celebrities. When Ppl are in a frantic state they know how to calm assist.

Mercury in 12th are good at controlling the narratives around themselves. People hand on to every word that's said. These are the types that prefer to talk when necessary and not give out to much information. Just enough to keep you hooked. They have a unique sound and are musically inclined it helps that they think outside of the box. Usually the leader of the group because of their ability to see the broader picture and keep everyones best interest at heart. They attract haters bc they set high goals for themselves they get viewed as outlandish or unpractical when actually they just believe in themselves and remain optimistic. They know alot about very specific niche things.

Jupiter in the 12th don't get the credit they deserve for being so iconic. They really are trendsetters that break molds and stereotypes and tend receive backlash for the things they say & do simply because they were the first to do it. Opening up the pathway for others to show up more authentically and protected. They have big expression and are passionate about the things they choose to do. Their not afraid to speak their truth and having a forgiving nature. Creative pursuits are well received by the public attracting sponsors easily. Its also easy for them to find/create a community ppl reall gravitate to them. Their kryptonite lies in their self esteem. If they can't face rejection they'll hide the best parts of themselves. Only seeing the beauty in others and not what they offer the world.

Saturn in the 12th need to know when to stop while their ahead. They get into unnecessary battles bc of a fragile or inflated ego. When the ego is healthy this makes for a very powerful person that commands rooms with ease. They make Pol want to sit up in their chair when they walk in. These Pol are stubborn but more often than not it works out in their favor. Very hard workers and the same energy they apply is expected from those around them. If they put in 80 hrs a week they expect the same from you, if I can do it why can't you mentality. They achieve alot and Ppl notice it but its like no one ever sees them working they just see the finished product and know a lot had to be done behind the scenes. For example let's say someone is very popular you know they would've had to built those relationships you just didn't see it happen. They could have a guilt complex about their achievements and feel like theirs still more they should be doing for other ppl. Growing up as the star, the golden child, the one thats going to help the family put a lot of pressure and responsibility on them. This could've also affected the relationship between the others siblings. Lastly these Ppl are either very serious about punctuality or show up whenever they want to. Maybe even both they could've started out one way and over time became another way. When saturn is damaged they run from responsibility and are viewed as childish and never learning from their lessons.

Neptune in the 12th know how to win over the audience. I chose the word audience bc they love an audience. Ppl will make excuses for their behavior like ''you know they had a rough childhood'' as if that excuses hurting others. Professional sympathy grabbers even when their not even trying and great ass kissers when they want to be. That is in neptunes lower natures ofc. These ppl speak their mind without a fuck given. This is like the only pile im cursing in and that kind of explains them. Their going to say what they want and don't mind shaking the room up. Image is important to them. They'll study their own footage to see what they looked like, sounded like, acted like, and change anything they deem as not fitting. They could be great actors or social media personalities. Also would be good at managing social media accounts. These ppl may be easily persuaded especially by those they view as having a higher social ranking than themselves. Knowing how to adapt to any environment is their strong suit. They act as a mirror in their environment and reflect back whatever energy you give them. To a T at that. They know when to play it up or be more lowkey. This is type of person to always leave lasting impressions on ppl. They could be the first in a taboo field to achieve something. Like being the first pornstar to get 100 million views. Its like when you think you have them figured out they do something else that shows there's many other sides to them. Often hearing ''i didnt think I would like you at first''. With a great sense of humor they know how to laugh at themselves and lighten the mood they don't take life to seriously. They attract a lot of unique ppl their friend group is very expansive. They could be friends with a stripper and an attorney. Hell they might've been a stripper and an attorney.

Uranus in the 12th they just pop up and ppl are surprised like ''omg what are doing here'' these ppl are held in high regard mostly bc their very selective with their energy, your viewed as a busy person so when you come around it makes ppl feel lucky. You treat others fairly and want everyone around you to feel accepted. You value keeping the peace. The fact that I'm even using you instead of they is a reflection of how inclusion is important for you. Having an eccentric vibe is more obvious here but alot of ppl go the opposite way and don't want to appear uniquely at all they actually want to be as plain Jane as possible. This can actually rub ppl the wrong way and make them feel something is being hidden from them like your pretending. Feeling criticized in childhood is why accepting others is something they prioritize. They end up in rooms with many different types of ppl. This placement has a lot of experience in a lot of different areas. With a free spirited nature they are open to trying new things pushing themselves outside of their comfort zone quite often.

Pluto in the 12th, a quiet energy standing in the back of the room scoping out the scenery. They notice more than ppl realize and are smarter than they let on. Often having their power tested bc of their calm observing demeanor. Ppl try to make them feel they don't belong in certain environments or that their not really qualified but they don't mind showing you why that perception isn't accurate. They know how to push back. The type to pretend they don't care about popularity but they work very hard at obtaining it. But maybe they don't care about the popularity just the power that it brings. Knowing the value of relationships they put alot into maintaining them. They are very giving to those around them. Self sacrificing even, its like they believe thats how you show someone you really care. These are some of the most passionate people you'll meet. They just know how to make you feel understood and seen. They make everyone feel special. This is one of the most intense placements for the 12th house. The transformations are deep, murky, confusing but it breeds and very self sufficient determined person. They question everything and are always growing and adapting. When they find something they like they become obsessive about it. They will work for extended amounts at a time. Like binging behavior. In Pluto's lower natures they develop a chip or their shoulder and use their influence to hurt others. If they are operating from that place they become very good at it. If they are never brought into awareness they continue generational curses but their children will have it worse than they did. These are the type of Pol that will tell you a traumatic experience in such a casual way and your just left like wtf you said that like it was normal. They also could've grew up experiencing their traumas being brushed off like they were normal. They were familiar with death from a young age and may have felt like they never really were a child. They build the trust of others easily and its bc their honest. It is what it is to them. They are natural born leaders it doesn't take much convincing & they don't mind leading the way as long as you give them their accolades for it. Mind you they could have a god complex but to be fair if you've experienced or achieved the things they have you might too.

[starmosaics]

Mars in the 8th House pt. 2/3

If you haven’t read the 1st part here’s a link to the original post :)

Today I’m focusing on transformation, life and death situations and possible struggles with mental health and substance abuse.

Those with Mars in the 8H frequently face unforeseen events in their life which catalyzes incredible changes. Some of these events are catastrophic. These people can completely alter their lives by brute will or they will be met with challenges which push them towards making necessary changes.

Common events I’ve seen/experienced that pushes an 8H Mars towards transformation:

-Death of a loved one, loss of any kind

-Near death experiences

-A breakup/divorce

-Overcoming addiction

-Releasing/healing trauma

-Inheritance

There’s many times where these people feel isolated and left in the dark; some may feel like they’ve lost everything even their sense of self. Many 8H Mars individuals have experienced and been exposed to very difficult and painful events which is one of the most challenging aspects of this placement. Life has its ups and downs and for these people, that’s never ending. The most important thing is that they are so persevering and are quite determined to follow through to reach the other end after facing difficulties. I’ve seen people with this aspect go through hell and eventually got out of that dark place and became a totally different person; shedding one’s skin. I myself feel like I have already lived 10 different lives. The 8th House forcefully causes one to experience changes within their mental state, physical bodies, or spiritual lives; the 8th House can quite literally strip your identity causing you to have to completely build yourself up again.

These people may feel like they got the short end of the stick when it comes to certain situations that they've been dealt leading them to succumbing to their fears and experiencing chaos and disheveledness leaving them feeling trapped, but something to remind these folks is that when they feel like they’ve hit rock bottom, the closer they are to transforming themselves or an area of their lives along with gaining grit and profound wisdom. The 8th House wants you to go inwards, identify the parts of yourself or your life you can't face, to take the reins and evolve. Sometimes it requires metaphorically (sometimes literally, but hopefully not) dying first to become reborn.

T/W: Abuse, substance use, heavy topics mentioned!!

In terms of an 8H Mars’ mental health, there’s quite a distinctive pattern. As we’ve established earlier that what kind of experiences these people might face, the events that alters one's life naturally will heavily impact one's mental health. I know 4 other people with this placement (along with myself) who have some form of psychiatric disorder; most commonly Bipolar disorder, Paranoia, MDD (major depressive disorder), and BPD. Many have experienced events (commonly during childhood, teen years, and early twenties) that lead to signs/a diagnosis of CPTSD (complex post traumatic stress disorder).

Substance abuse is also very common to those who have this placement. Either a family member of theirs struggled with it, or they themselves did. Everyone I know who has this placement including myself has either had a family member who struggled with addiction, or have personally struggled with addiction; sometimes both. 8th house represents something you inherit and unfortunately sometimes it's the inter-generational cycle of addiction. Substance use disorders and mental disorders are sometimes heritable. This isn't meant to scare you or make you feel bad if you have faced any battles with substances. Addiction doesn't have to be your whole life story, just a chapter. Those who I know who previously struggled with addiction and turned their lives around are happier than ever.

Here are some famous people with an 8H Mars that struggled with their mental health and substance abuse:

-Marilyn Monroe (Alleged Bipolar disorder, substance use disorder)

-Robin Williams (MDD, substance use disorder)

-Amanda Bynes (Bipolar disorder, abused stimulants)

-Sid Vicious (Showed signs of personality disorder, substance use disorder)

-Drew Barrymore (Substance use disorder, MDD)

-Courtney Love (Substance use disorder, Autism)

-Lil Peep (Bipolar disorder, substance use disorder)

-Anthony Bourdain (MDD, substance abuse)

More than half of these famous people also struggled in childhood due to the impact of their family members; Marilyn Monroe had a traumatizing childhood and was living in multiple foster homes and orphanages due to her alcoholic and schizophrenic mother being unable to care for her, Amanda Bynes facing sexual abuse by Dan Schneider as a child, Sid Vicious' mother was neglectful and gave him hero*n when he was a teenager, Drew Barrymore had a mother who influenced and fueled Drew's coca*ne and alcohol addiction before she was even 15 years old, and Courtney Love's father was deemed to be unstable and a horrible father. He allegedly gave her LSD as a child and also physically abused her when she was 17 after visiting him in Ireland.

I don't want to fully air this story out, but I had a friend who was like a sibling to me and their dad abandoned them during their teenage years and their mother was unable to work due to her schizophrenia and substance abuse; she would have us pick up cigarettes and get drugs for her when we were 16/17. This friend has experienced a lot of pain and is still struggling with their own demons and mental health and i'm no longer in their life due to their choices and influence on me, but I still think about them all the time. I wish them the best and hope they eventually find their way back to themselves. They're one of the smartest people I've ever met.

In my own personal life, my dad was never in the picture and my mother (who I believe also had an 8H Mars) struggled with mental illness and substance abuse, so I lived with my grandmother, who I eventually found out also abused substances, but was more "stable". After my mom passed literally from alcohol deteriorating her body when I was 17, I decided I had to keep distance from my family and moved out as soon as I could and since then my life has totally changed. I heavily smoked weed from the ages 16-19, I'm addicted to cigarettes, I am very wary about my alcohol consumption, and I inherited my mom and grandmother's mental illness. If it weren't for my upbringing, I wouldn't possess the wisdom I have today. Yes my childhood was fked up, but it made me immensely resilient. I have experienced life and death literally and metaphorically many many times.

I'm not saying that if you have this placement you're bound to struggle with addiction and have a tragic life story filled with trauma and pain, but unfortunately a more common thing I see in those who do have this placement have struggled with trauma, substances, abuse, and family dynamics. And like I said with the transformational aspect of the 8th House, many people overcame their demons and traumas. There's always an option for recovery in any scenario which is also associated with the 8H, and sometimes destruction (Mars) and chaos is needed for rebirth. In a less extreme manner, 8th House Martians may just struggle with generalized depression and anxiety.

Another thing I've noticed about those with an 8H Mars placement is that they let their anger seethe until it eventually boils over leading to an outburst. They may experience super intense meltdowns due to not healthily coping. Emotional regulation might be difficult for these natives in general.

On one end Mars rules destruction, conflict, death, assaults, and violence. On the other, it represents ambition, overcoming, exertion, determination, encouragement, strength, one's ability, and facing fears.

If you have an 8H Mars and faced any of the struggles above or anything similar and need someone to talk to you can always message me! I want this post to encourage the people who may feel stuck or are in a rough place that they can overcome whatever is thrown at them. Remember crisis comes first, then evolution and finally, total transformation. <3

In the 3rd and final part we'll go over struggles within intimate relationships 8H Mars folks might face and "taboo" topics these natives might enjoy.

[charmtale]

Shameful secrets cause a person to become haunted. She cannot sleep, for a shaming secret is like a cruel barbed wire that catches her across the gut as she tries to run free.

(Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves)

the fact that no one* knew about akio's abuse of anthy is far from the only thing wrong with it, but the inherent shameful secrecy of it was an integral part of her abuse, something that significantly served to isolate anthy from her peers.

it was definitely akio's plan for utena to see anthy and akio at the end of ep. 36. (anthy's hands disappear into her hair = she had no hand in this. + the way the scene lights up like how lights come on at the beginning of a new scene in a play (anthy's previously black silhouette gaining color and features) = it was staged. not to mention her bleak expression) akio thought that utena would just be disgusted by her, and/or feel betrayed, and that would be that. however, he sealed his fate (anthy being able to ditch him) with this action, because utena offered anthy compassion and understanding instead of condemning her.

utena acknowledging anthy's pain as a result of being abused by akio touched anthy more than any of utena's other actions up to that point. while utena says a lot of stuff in that scene about utena's ego and being a prince, anthy only has visible reactions to two of utena's lines until utena is completely done speaking.

"And the night I learned about you and Akio...!"

the camera focuses completely on anthy, nothing else shown, as anthy slightly tilts her head up. there is no dialogue while anthy makes this small movement; anthy is listening intently for what utena will say next, and the show wants us to notice that.

"I thought that you had betrayed me. Even though you were suffering so much...!"

when utena talks about suffering- acknowledging that akio's treatment of anthy caused anthy pain- anthy uncurls her body significantly. a visual indicator of feeling less shame, immediately in that moment.

anthy does not move in reaction to anything else utena says until utena is fully done speaking, when anthy and utena are now shown kinda-holding eachother. utena may or may not know the full impact of her words, but it is clear to the viewers what moved anthy to say:

"It doesn't matter now. Just leave this school. Forget about everything that happened here!"

in anthy's opinion, this has to be the kindest, most honest thing she can say in this moment. utena leaving would ruin akio's plan and anthy would be the obvious reason why (likely leading to punishment), not to mention how anthy would obviously miss utena. the fact anthy said it anyway shows how impactful utena's statement was

it's good to talk about utena's obsessive girlprincing and how it was damaging. it's good that utena acknowledges it herself. but i think the fandom commonly overestimates how much that mattered to anthy, especially in relation to this scene. i feel that people sometimes abbreviate it as 'utena apologized to anthy for her egotistical behavior, and that brought them closer together!' like yes, she did and that was positive and indicative of utena maturing. but i do not think that was the most important aspect here

[crooked-wasteland]

Sir Pentious and the Importance of Narrative Structure

There are some aspects of Hazbin Hotel that leave me genuinely blind-sided. Like standing on the sidewalk when you suddenly witness a catastrophic car crash only for someone on the other side of the road to get distracted from rubbernecking and cause a second collision . That is the only way I can describe the feeling I get whenever I think about how the series handled Sir Pentious.

I have never seen a show fumble such a big plot point, not once, but twice and in the same exact way. First in the episode where the characters are engaging in “trust exercises”; the narrative entirely neglects the cast of Husk, Pentious, Angel, and Nifty for a very rudimentary plot that feels straight out of season one Steven Universe for Vaggie and Charlie. Instead it skips to them returning to the roof as a group and Angel Dust carrying Pentious and that is the end of the series attempting to show this bond until the second to last episode. Which also just does nothing with the first opportunity to watch that assumed relationship actually come together.

We never saw them actually help each other during the Turf War, but there was an opportunity that would have worked even with zero changes to the rest of the series to rectify that fact and it would have only cost at most 90 seconds of screen time:

Just have these characters talk to each other and treat it like it means something.

And it’s not hard to figure the reasoning of the writers was to have the reveal that the side characters didn’t leave be the big cherry on top this episode’s happily ever after. Instead, it's a completely forgotten plot point that only keeps the audience from ever believing these characters cared about each other enough to mourn one of them being killed off in the most abrupt way.

Sir Pentious’ death was pathetic. The heroic buildup to him buying the others time is undercut by his actual uselessness. And that compounds the problem with the fact his death is an intentional joke, but simultaneously supposed to be an impactful character moment? That isn’t how you get an audience to laugh while crying.

The art of achieving that dram-ody effect is fundamentally based on two grounded principles: familiarity to the character and pacing. Building up to sadness is a process, and trying to achieve something as primal as sadness requires some surprisingly complicated setup. In an undeveloped prefrontal cortex, the brain is still hardwired to mirror as a form of empathy. It’s why so many young fans can say without irony that Pentious dying is “Sad”, because they are caught off guard by his sudden passing to then be inundated with the named characters crying and being sad. They are sad because the characters are sad, but there was no one crying for Pentious like the characters are, not without a psychologically concerning degree of parasocial attachment. It’s “Sad” as in its “disappointing”, but the animators intentionally attempt to highjack the wave of disappointment to convince a child audience that they are feeling a different kind of grief.

And it didn’t need to be anything special, even a cookie cutter “Power of friendship” scene would have still fixed that gap enough to at least allow for a course correction later on and presenting the characters as more fleshed out. If time constraints were really that large of an issue, setting yourself up to succeed by laying the foundation to fix these narrative gaps is the only way to rectify it. Especially with announcing an already pre-approved second season that the crew would have been parallel planning for and thus had knowledge on where to save certain aspects for later.

To be frank, this is why people remember Helluva Boss’ first season so favorably, but it ultimately suffered the opposite issue. Season 1 of HB had a better grasp of setting up plot points early and giving themselves enough space to keep people theorizing and allowing them the opportunity to adapt the characters and narrative dynamically. The whole allure of the series originally was anticipating the payoff for these “mysteries”. It is just that the series had no intention of utilizing those mysteries for any meaningful narrative and quickly killed them off to focus on a predictable and uninteresting ship.

And I am sorry to snatch those rose-tinted glasses, but the first season wasn’t good, we just had clear narrative gaps that felt intentional and anticipated a story/arc/effort where there was no intention behind the scenes to really dedicate any resources to it. And alternatively HH is being handled far less skillfully from the jump, so it attracts the audience that will dedicate themselves to it (children) without any expectations in regards to quality.

[kimlerde]

Booking test

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1xbit Complaints

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Paripesa Complaints

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Common User Complaints

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The reasons behind these complaints can vary widely. Some users may not fully understand the terms and conditions associated with the platform, while others may have had isolated incidents that do not represent the overall user experience. It's essential to approach these complaints with a balanced perspective, considering both the negative feedback and positive reviews that may exist.

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While Stake has its strengths, addressing these stake complaints is crucial for maintaining a positive user experience. Potential users should consider these issues before engaging with the platform, making informed decisions based on feedback from current and previous users.

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Feedback from Users

While bet365 provides a wide range of betting options and generally positive experiences for many users, it is important to consider both the pros and cons. User feedback often highlights a mix of satisfaction with the platform's features but also frustration with specific issues.

Understanding the nature of 1xbit complaints, paripesa complaints, Stake complaints, and now bet365 complaints can help users navigate their betting experiences more effectively. Always research and weigh the positive and negative feedback from users to make a wise decision.

[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.

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

I do wonder if part of the ‘is WWX morally grey’ debate comes not from disagreement on WWX’s actions and motivations, but from what ‘morally grey’ actually means?

I personally believe that a character’s moral purity (for lack of a better word) is defined by 1) the character's morals and how they’re framed in context of the piece of media, and 2) how strongly said character adheres to this moral code. WWX’s morals are upheld by the text (and tend to be ‘good’ regardless, eg protecting and defending people who can't protect themselves). He constantly strives to do the ‘right’ thing, without regard for gains or losses, regardless of whether others decide to praise or blame — and sticking to this code is one of the most important, if not the most important, aspects of his character. To me, that therefore makes him not ‘morally grey’ (the same goes for LWJ, etc). This stands in contrast to people like NMJ, who do follow their ideas of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ strongly, but these ideas give a very limited and potentially harmful view of the world (eg all Wens, even ones who have done nothing, are evil) and so are condemned in the novel. It also stands in contrast to the many characters who simply… don’t follow a moral code that strongly.

However, this isn’t the view all people have. My view upholds the general and the intentions strongly, and not so much the spefics or the consequences. For example, in that framework, WWX can do some wrong/harmful/ill-intentioned things while still not being ‘morally grey’, because of his orientation towards his code as described above. And I’m not disputing the fact that he does do some of these things — I’d argue that the majority of ‘WWX is not morally grey’ supporters don’t dispute that, either. But there’s room for imperfection, mistakes and nuance in this view before a character reaches a morality which is ‘grey’.

However, to others, specific actions can’t be excused as easily, and so the above isn’t the case — each significantly ‘bad’ thing a person does impacts their morality. So regardless of WWX’s general character, his actions in regards to WC, Nightless City etc do make him morally grey… because after that, how can he not be? Those actions and their consequences happened, and there was a lot of harm done, regardless of WWX’s general character.

I also believe that someone’s moral standing can be different at different points of one’s life. Let’s leave MDZS behind for this example and look at TGCF instead: did XL, in book 4, want to commit genocide against the people of Yong’An by unleashing the Human Face Disease on them? Yes. Does he, in the present, regret that action/intention and strive to do good instead? Also yes. So in my framework, is he morally grey now due to those actions? No. The same idea for me is true in regards to MDZS. Was WWX ‘morally grey’ during his torture of the Wens and in the SSC? I’d personally say yes (by my own standards, definitely — by novel standards it’s a little more complex since I’d argue MDZS doesn’t view revenge against people who wronged you as unjust. But it’s certainly not praising the actual lengths WWX went to, and doesn’t present his actions in a positive light. There’s also an internal comment of WWX’s supporting this reading, when he says he went a bit too far back in the Sunshot Campaign, though note that was referring more to his actions in controlling dead Wen soldiers than to his specific revenge on Wen Chao). But does that mean WWX is ‘morally grey’ at every instance after that, that it taints him forever? No!

But again, this idea is a point of dispute. I know that some people don’t consider ‘moral greyness’ at different points in a character’s life*, instead looking at all the character’s actions and intentions comprehensively. In this view, the torture of WC etc would impact WWX’s moral standing for the entire rest of the novel, as once you’ve done something it sticks with you forever.

Finally, though I prioritise the novel’s framing of morality over my personal thoughts on it, some people are the opposite. And depending on what those people’s personal morals are, it can very much change your reading on WWX’s morality.

So tl;dr — I definitely think it’s possible to have the same reading of who WWX is, while having different views on whether he’s ‘morally grey’ or not. Though I’d argue he’s not, somebody disagreeing with that doesn’t mean they’re automatically wrong about who WWX is — it could just be a different definition of a pretty underfined term. The opposite is also true: just because someone thinks WWX isn’t morally grey, it doesn’t mean they think he never caused harm or acted absolutely perfectly in everything he did. Simply that his actions were understandable enough in context of who he is and his circumstances, to not actually impact his morals and views towards upholding morality as a whole**.

For me, at least, what makes WWX a good person isn’t that he never does anything wrong, harmful, or over-the-top. It’s that he never hesitates to do what’s right, no matter the condemnation he may face — when barely any other characters in MDZS do.

—

*Or rather, they judge it by a comprehensive list of actions the character has done up until the relevant point in their lives. Ie a child version of a character isn’t culpable for what their older self did — however, once an action is taken, that action affects the character’s moral standing for the rest of their life, no matter their views on that action in the present day.

**In terms of moral alignments as opposed to purity, however? WWX’s commitment to doing what he thinks is right is indisputable.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Okay here I am again because the Grima brainrot is particularly intense rn and I just saw a post talking about.

Grima but as a woman. Like genderbend. Nothing changes, same looks, same personality, same behaviour, same ambiguous feelings for Eowyn. (I’d smash.)

I think it’s actually interesting considering that Grima’s flaws in the movies/books are hinted also to be rooted from his “unmanliness” (as Tolkien presents a lot of characters with honour and values considered “male”.)

But I think that even if he were to be a woman, there is a great deal of traits Grima wouldn’t possess to be considered conventionally “feminine” by Tolkien’s and many’s standards. (Such as beauty for example).

So yeah, it just occurred to me and now I’ve been thinking about this since 3am. This is the reason why I’m pansexual. We don’t care about gender. We care about silly evil pookies okay.

As always have a great day/night ! ^^

Yesssss!

Grima & Gender is a super interesting thing that I think about all the time. I love thinking about him and manliness, femininity, secret third and fourth options etc.

I know I reblogged the ask/reply that I had about Grima on Gender and Magic, so you have the gist of most of my thoughts as it relates to Grima performing gender (or not, as the case may be) within the context of masculinity.

But Grima straight up as a woman would be very interesting. Particularly because Rohan is quite gendered when it comes to the wielding of power - and quite binary in who wields what power.

(E.g., when Theoden departs Edoras to fight Saruman, he despairs over leaving the city leaderless because Eomer won't stay behind. It doesn't occur to him that Eowyn is even an option until Hama suggests it.)

Therefore, Grima being in a position of power that is traditionally masculine would be very interesting. Indeed, her entire performance of gender would likely be impacted by the uniqueness of her position. Queens, historically, were more passive in Rohan than in other countries so it's not like she would have someone to model herself on. Nor would there be a model for other people on how to receive and perceive Grima.

(Morwen, maaaaaybe, but honestly her epithet of Steelsheen is more about her appearance than anything else. Though perhaps her personality could be inferred from it... But truly, we only know her in the context of being wife and mother.)

Given the absence of models, would Grima into the more masculine aspects of how people would be reading her? Would she do the whole performance of "I may have the body of a woman but I've the head and heart of a man"? Or would she hyper-perform the femininity song and dance as a way to balance it out/make her more palatable to some?

Aside from the occupying a masculine position of power within the context of Rohan's society, Grima's other personality and physical traits would absolutely count against her being seen as appropriately feminine.

Good qualities for a Rohirrim woman to have is height, slenderness, fairness of face, and youthfulness. Grima's tall...and that's all she's got going for her.

Grima is also neither high-hearted nor noble in bearing let alone in birth (because nobility of birth is very important to one's perceived Goodness and Worth in Tolkien's world).

Grima is a sneak, a liar, a thief, and power hungry. Grima would be, fundamentally, a Woman Who Wants Something. And what she wants are things women shouldn't want.

Wanting Things in general, for both men and women, is a dangerous game to play in Middle Earth and the texts punish many of the people who do any major "unacceptable" desiring (or creating) of things outside their purview.

Grima's obvious foil, Eowyn, is a prime example. Eowyn wants to be a warrior, she wants to be queen, she wants to be part of the Gondor noble family (and assume the power and privilege that comes with that), she wants to be seen and heard and to have an impact on the fate of the world.

Some of her wanting was out of a selfless desire to save her home and her people, but a lot was also just her having dreams and desires.

Eowyn may have been named as Shieldmaiden of Rohan but it is evident that this was meant as an honorific that wasn't meant to be actually acted upon. Save, of course, in the gravest/most dire circumstances when all is lost and only women remain to defend the land because the men are dead. This is, indeed, the gist of the conversation she has with Aragorn and you can see her resentment and anger about what her expected role is to be compared to that of her brother and the other men in her life.

I think the fact that Eowyn reflects, in many ways, the ideal of womanhood is what saves her from being punished too hard. Eowyn is tall, fair, slender, young, high-hearted, daughter of kings, and has selfless and noble motives (alongside the more human ones).

She is allowed her transgression. She gets her great moment of battle against the witch-king. She gets to make her mark, to save people, to change history.

But, she also receives a bit of a personality transplant as a result of it. She gets to be a wife - but not a queen. She gets to be a mother who heals people. She gets to be a Proper Noble Woman and live, once again, in a gilded cage. The very thing she was so furious about initially.

I know there is the idea that she is healed and she has overcome her anger and has changed - but it still feels like the text punished her and robbed her. Of course, a huge part of the problem is that Eowyn is the only women we spend any real time with - if we had more women with diverse journeys and endings, it would be different.

It's subconscious to a certain degree, I think, also heavily informed by Tolkien's Catholicism alongside the culture of the time. The importance of the Marian archetype of womanhood etc. And we know Tolkien loved Eowyn's character and thought about her a lot, wanted to write a good story for her, but some of that stuff sneaks in regardless.

But all of this to say - if that is Eowyn's ending...what would happen to Grima? One who would be committing greater transgressions against gender performance let alone the whole Light Soupçon of Treason.

Because aside from wanting material wealth and power, we know that Grima potentially desires Eowyn. In the movie it's explicit but the books are more ambiguous. We are told, via Gandalf, that Eomer was concerned about Grima ogling his sister and threatened to kill him over it. Crucially, we never hear from Grima about this specific item and we certainly never hear from Eowyn.

Indeed, Gandalf's line to Eomer about how his sister is "safe now" says far more about Eomer's fears and concerns than it does about the reality of the situation. We know in ROTK that Eomer didn't know his sister's heart or mind - he didn't know she was unhappy with her position in the household and broader society, he didn't know she wa so angry and resentful, he didn't know she was in emotional pain, he didn't know what she wanted, he didn't know jack. Therefore can we think him reliable when it comes to being a fountain of knowledge about his sister's desires?

I mean...considering no one was paying much attention to her, and when they did they were reading their own things onto her (coughEomercough), perhaps Eowyn liked having Grima pay attention to her? Like, who knows. Someone who may have seen her and may have known what her fears and desires were might have been novel/nice (before she realized he's selling everyone out for a corn chip). Heck, Gandalf implies that Grima had a pretty good handle on Eowyn's innermost dreams and wishes, so take that as you will.

(I now have this image in my head of Eowyn and Grima getting wine drunk out back of Meduseld and bitching about people.)

All pure idle speculation for the sake of pot-stirring. Anyway, I keep getting distracted.

Grima as a woman feeling lust, though - that would be another strike against her. Honourable love and the implied desire that might exist because of it is fine. But in the text overt desire of a clearly sexual nature is presented in a mostly negative light. Let alone, in this speculation, Grima is lusting after another woman! That's even more unnatural and contrary! What a freak /sarcasm.

Then there's the cowardice - which is shown as a negative no matter who is displaying it. Though, I think of all the aspects of Grima, this is the one that would get more of a pass as a woman than as a man.

So yeah - given that Grima's entire personality is one that is contrary to what is modeled as Good Femininity it would be very interesting to see how it played out over the course of the text.

Everything from the banishment, which was predicated on Grima being expected to do battle alongside Theoden in order to prove that he is still loyal - what test of loyalty would Grima as a woman be expected to perform and then fail because she's too chickenshit?

The relationship with Saruman would be construed in a different way, also the hold Grima had over Theoden - that would take on different implications. And those implications would also change how Theoden is perceived, too, which is interesting.

That Theoden is leaning on a woman for support in ruling would make him seem even weaker and more foolish. It would be so interesting to see it unfold!

Then there's the rivalry with Gandalf - the positioning of them as two sides of the Odinnic coin.

Also the being tortured and tormented by Saruman after Helm's Deep. Not to mention the Scouring of the Shire and Grima's ultimate end. If Grima is a woman, in this, I think Tolkien would have had her ending be different.

----

Alright, I've banged on for way, way too long about this and went no where in particular, and all has been said before in different ways so I'm not landing on anything new or insightful.

Just wittering...I love wittering about Grima so thank you for giving me the opportunity to lol

<3 <3

[mymiraclebox]

Hey big fan of you and i have a question? could you maybe do like an Explenation on all of the time miraculouse on like what they do specifically i would really appreciate if you would do that.

The Timekeepers came to be when an ancient Elemental kwami of Time named Eeterna split her essence near the beginning of the universe into multiple kwamis who control various aspects of Time, known as Timekeepers. Timekeepers are about as powerful as Delta kwamis in terms of raw power, but thanks to their various ways to manipulate of time the impacts they can leave are some of the most potent among kwamis. There are twelve Timekeepers currently on earth.

Fluff the Rabbit of Evolution: Arguably the most powerful Timekeeper, Fluff's powers allow a holder to travel to any point in time relative to their location. This allows them to interfere with past and future events, learn key knowledge, and act almost as an all seeing eye. Fortunately its nearly impossible for this Miraculous to fall into the wrong hands, as other Rabbit holders will instantly interfere. Unlike many Miraculous holders they aren't focused on the world, but rather the flow of time itself, and will follow Fluff's direction to keep time progressing.

Shaash the Bear of Preservation: The Bear Miraculous is often see as the opposite or counter of the Rabbit; like the Rabbit it can acess a unique pocketspace known as the Den that lets them view any moment of time. Instead of traveling through time, however, the Bear is able to Preserve moments in time that make them unchangeable to outside forces, including interference from the Rabbit and other Timekeepers. Bear holders are charged with securing major historical events and important moments in time.

Antiqq the Aurochs of Reversion: Antiqq's powers are linked specifically to rewinding time, which she can do with everything, or have it affect only one target instead. When rewinding time it starts from the moment they're affected and moves backwards from there, they cannot just jump to any moment in the past.

Keena the Lynx of Intuition: Keena's powers give one an immediate understanding of the future, either through glimpses of visions or through powerful feelings that act as warning for upcoming events. Usually these powers focus on such close upcoming moments that they aren't easily subjected to change like other powers linked to the future.

Sass the Cobra of Opportunity: This Miraculous mark a moment in time that one can repeatedly return too, allowing them to change the outcome of immediate future events until they get the desired results. More powerful holders can also create time loops that can repeat a single day to allow for longer moments to work, though these are harder to break free from.

Apple the Red Panda of Lineage: The Ped Panda Miraculous can travel through time, but is closely linked to bloodline when it comes to using such powers. This makes one able to move forward or backwards through time, to either when their direct ancestor or descendant is. Unlike many powers there is no simple way to undo this time jump, though Apple himself can send a person back to their own time if they so wish.

Zipp the Dragonfly of Progression: Zipp's power speeds up time around themselves, essentially allowing them to fast-forward reality around them. They can also choose to only speed up time for themselves, appearing to have superspeed to those watching on.

Passtel the Snail of Patience: The Snail's powers are able to slow down time, either to the reality around them, allowing them to view the present in what appears to be slow motion, or they can slow down specific targets without impacting those around them.

Allta the Frog of Change: This Miraculous can show the future, specifically the many possible futures out there rather than the most likely. Under the Frog one can see multiple options of their own future, either the immediate or what can be years away, based on the different choices and Changes one can will make.

Frostt the Penguin of Stagnation: Frostt's power is able to freeze time, either with reality as a whole leaving the user unaffected, or with this power targeting a single person. Anything that is frozen in time however cannot be moved or manipulated.

Faae the Spider of Destiny: Faae's Miraculous let's one see the most likely future, and the fate of what lays ahead in one's life. These powers often manifest as visions, and while highly likely they aren't set in stone. This Miraculous also can give you a sense of what a person is like and what path they are taking in life.

Mataara the Tuatara of History: This Miraculous let's one look into the past. They can either do this through physical contact and see things for themselves, or they can manifest a ghostly image of events for all to see.

All actions from Timekeepers can be overridden by a Wish, and Timekeepers' powers cannot prevent a Wish from happening.

[theblackhate]

Knowledge pt.5

check out the other parts here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Michelle was nervous at the thought of facing the combat the next day. After witnessing what some of her peers were capable of, she felt somewhat intimidated. She hoped to be paired with someone relatively weak to train with.

Lauren was skilled, very skilled, but she didn't fight to win.

It must have been shortly after 7 pm when Michelle reached the tattoo shop where Tyson worked. Unlike the previous mornings when it was closed, this time it was open to the public.

The place was bustling with Dauntless eager to get a tattoo, and as she made her way through the crowd, she tried to find him near the stations.

To her surprise, however, she found Tori busy working on a tattoo for a girl she had never seen before. The woman looked up as she saw Michelle approaching and offered a brief smile before returning her focus to her work.

"Hey, Michelle. Nice to see you here. Have you decided to get a tattoo?" she spoke slowly, too focused on the tattoo.

It seemed to resemble a snake, although from where Michelle was standing, she couldn't clearly make it out.

"Let's say I have," she replied, taking a seat on one of the nearby stools, clutching the notebook she had recently purchased in her hand.

She had already started jotting down some ideas, hastily and without anything specific in mind. Getting a tattoo was more complicated than she thought; she felt very uncertain about certain aspects, knowing that such work would later be permanently inked on her skin.

It had to be perfect.

"Any ideas? Tyson told me you were working on something. Everything okay, Mia, go to the counter and book the last session," Tori spoke to the girl sitting on the chair, who got up and greeted her monotonously.

Michelle watched the girl leave with a dismissive air.

"Never mind her, she's always like that," Michelle's attention was once again drawn back to Tori, who was now setting up the station for a potential new client. "So, let's see?"

Michelle opened the notebook and showed Tori the various doodles she had made. The woman examined them carefully, occasionally making comments. The style was one she had never seen before, and she quite liked it.

"These are really beautiful, unique," she said, passing the notebook back to Michelle. "Which one would you like to do? So I can start making the stencil."

Michelle flipped through the pages until she reached a drawing that Tori hadn't seen before; she had stopped earlier.

She handed the notebook back to Tori, who carefully observed the intricate lines and details within. At the center of the different lines was the symbol of the Dauntless.

Tori furrowed her brows; the pattern seemed familiar to her, yet she couldn't recall where she had seen it before.

"It's like a map of the place, and the symbol marks where the Pit is," Michelle explained, watching Tori's reaction. The woman's eyes widened slightly as she realized the different corridors leading to the Pit.

"It's...wow," she said, genuinely amazed. Slowly, she tried to trace each tunnel, and indeed, Michelle's drawing was accurate. "Do you want this?"

Michelle nodded, and with her permission, Tori went to make a photocopy of the drawing and then create a stencil. She returned shortly, handing back Michelle's notebook. "Give me one, maximum two days, and you can come to get it done. Where would you like it?"

Michelle pondered for a moment. Her arms were too small to accommodate a tattoo of that size; it wouldn't have the right impact.

"Back," Michelle replied.

"I'll let Tyson know," Tori responded before bidding her farewell to attend to a new client who was patiently waiting beside the station, holding a sheet with the design he wanted to get tattooed.

Michelle returned to the dormitories after briefly stopping by the cafeteria to grab something to eat, trying to follow Lauren's advice as much as possible. She ate a couple of hamburgers and a side before heading to the dormitory for a shower, taking advantage of the fact that everyone had gone to dinner.

The warm water relaxed her muscles, and the smell of sweat quickly washed away, replaced by the scent of cleanliness.

She tried to be as quick as possible to get some sleep; she was undecided whether to go to sleep now as usual or actually use the night to rest. The next day, she would have to face one of her peers, and she didn't know what would be wiser.

Michelle riflected on Arlo and Patrik's fight, the memory of the sound of their fists against their opponent still fresh in her mind. She had to be as prepared as possible; sleeping wasn't an option.

She slipped into bed, closing her eyes and falling asleep for what felt like an eternity, but something disturbed her sleep, causing her to wake up abruptly. When she turned to check the time, she noticed the clock was nearing midnight.

She got up very cautiously, trying to figure out what that sudden noise had been, but not noticing anything particular, she assumed she had imagined it, still half in the world of dreams.

She quickly changed into her clothes and slipped out of the dormitory. The dimly lit corridors at night made her feel a bit anxious; it was true. The occasional blue light that illuminated them was not enough to make her feel safe. She remained stiff-backed, ready to block a possible attack.

As she walked away from the dormitory, she heard another noise similar to the previous one.

She hadn't imagined it then.

It was the door of her dormitory opening and closing. The unmistakable creaking made Michelle flatten against a dark wall, not knowing who it could be at that hour. She heard whispered laughter fading away from the corridor where the dormitories were located. She was puzzled by this. Who were they? What did they want? Would she get into trouble if her absence was noticed?

Ignoring such concerns, she quickened her pace toward the gym accommodations, reaching them in record time to avoid whoever might be in the corridors.

As she did every night, she was relieved to find the gym empty, devoid of life, allowing her to train in peace. She wrapped her knuckles as Lauren had taught her and began hitting the bag for hours, ignoring the burning sensation in her arms.

She needed to be strong, to improve her standing.

She was the only one with so few points; everyone else had already fought, causing them to either rise or fall in the rankings. She, on the other hand, had only fallen, placing her below the red line.

She was no longer tenth; she was eighteenth.

She would have to work her ass off to get back to the top, but she promised herself she would make it. She would do whatever it took to climb back up.

Everything.

"Do you ever sleep?" Michelle jumped in place, hearing a voice from the other side of the gym. She spun around to see who it was, not recognizing the voice. She relaxed when she saw Four entering with a duffel bag.

She shrugged at his question, Four must have figured out her routine. "Lauren told me I'd find you here. You should rest, Michelle," Four said, more as advice than an order. His voice was gentle, as if he genuinely cared about her and her well-being.

"I'm rested," she replied, averting her gaze from his blue eyes.

Four clicked his tongue against his teeth, placing his stuff on a nearby bench. "Come here."

Michelle stopped punching the bag and turned to see what Four meant. She saw him standing on the combat mat, patiently observing her.

Confused, she approached.

"Show me what you can do," he said, getting into an attacking stance, followed immediately by her.

Four lunged at her, trying to grab her, but Michelle followed Lauren's advice and threw a lateral punch to his temple, making him step back.

He gritted his teeth at the impact but quickly recovered, continuing the sparring with her. Once again, he was surprised by her agility and speed. She dodged his blows with ease, and she had improved since the first time he had seen her spar with Eric.

She had refined her technique, attacking instead of always being on the defensive. But Four was good, better than her, and after twenty minutes of exchanging hits, he managed to bring her down.

"Watch out for—."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she replied, irritated, getting back on her feet. It was the same problem that Lauren had pointed out to her several times: she couldn't focus on attacking and protecting her feet at the same time.

She assumed an attacking stance again, and it was her turn to launch herself at the guy in front of her, putting him in serious difficulty. Michelle landed several blows to his chest, legs, and even one to his throat, managing to regain the upper hand.

But what she didn't know was that Four was holding back, reducing the force of his blows. He wanted her to improve, to make her better, but without hurting her.

He had to admit, though, she was good. She knew what to do, and it was incredible how she could predict almost every one of his moves. She had potential.

And that's when it occurred to him that perhaps the reason they needed to keep an eye on her was precisely for that, for her potential abilities; a member like her was necessary within the faction.

But it couldn't be just that.

Nearly an hour passed before Michelle started to tire, causing her to lose concentration and allowing Four to bring her down, equally exhausted.

Michelle relaxed on the mat, staring at the ceiling when she felt Four sit down beside her, handing her a water bottle.

"It's still early, it's not even three yet. You should go rest," he said.

But Michelle shook her head, getting up and heading back to the punching bag, ignoring Four's bored look. Why was she so stubborn, he wondered?

Four had to admit that he admired her in a way. He saw determination in her eyes and knew she would make her way through the initiation; she hadn't started off on the best foot, but there was time.

He watched her train for a while, then left via the rooftop, leaving the girl to her thoughts.

Unlike Four, Michelle was confused about why he had come there, only to leave after sparring with her. It couldn't have been just for her; otherwise, he wouldn't have arrived with a duffel bag and left via the rooftop instead of returning the way he came.

As she punched the bag, she felt weak, as if her punches, despite all the determination she put into them, were too feeble. She felt restrained, as if something was holding her back from pushing beyond her limits.

She couldn't give it her all, she knew, but she didn't know how to break through that mental barrier.

She kept hitting the bag repeatedly until she couldn't feel her arms anymore and until the sun began to lighten the sky, illuminating the room. She stopped, exhausted, but she was starting to love the sensation. The burning of her muscles was becoming a feeling of comfort for her.

She quickly headed back to the dormitory to take a quick shower and then go to the cafeteria for a hearty breakfast, but her plans didn't go as smoothly as she thought.

As she approached the iron doors of her dormitory, she began to hear a rather loud commotion coming from inside. When she opened the doors, she understood the reason for the agitation.

The entire room was covered in a black dust that had not only stuck to the walls but also to all the initiates present there. She saw Chloe almost in tears as she noticed that the strange substance didn't come off easily from her body, and Michelle looked for Sunny, who was sitting on her bed with a resigned expression.

She reached her as quickly as possible, ignoring the confused looks and unpleasant comments from her peers.

"Why isn't she dirty? She must have something to do with this!"

"It must have been her, for sure!"

"Where the hell was she? Why is she clean?"

When she stood in front of Sunny, the girl smiled at her despite her downcast face. "Funny, huh?"

"What happened?" she asked.

"I don't know, we woke up and suddenly found ourselves covered in this strange powder. It doesn't come off easily, it stains," he showed her his arm, which was no longer black but gray.

Michelle looked around, watching her desperate companions trying to get the substance off themselves.

On the other side of the room, Chloe observed Michelle with hatred and suspicion. She wondered why she was outside and especially if she had organized this prank, a way to skip the sparring that would take place in a few hours.

"You think?" Connor whispered next to her, glancing between her and Michelle.

"Come on, bro, you can't tell me something smells fishy here! She was outside the dorm, she came back just in time to see all of us covered in this stuff, and she's clean," Patrick continued to vigorously rub his face with a wet cloth to try to get rid of the residue.

Chloe huffed, "I agree, it's too much of a coincidence."

The dormitory doors swung open again with such force that they slammed against the wall, drawing the attention of all the teen present. They turned to see who had entered with such vigor, and the room fell into a deathly silence as Eric strode in, followed by Max and Lauren.

He looked around, his expression furious. "Can someone explain what happened?" he said very slowly.

He was trying to restrain himself from shouting at everyone and punishing them for this prank. He was even tempted to make them all Factionless after this. He had never seen anything like it in three years.

No one answered the question until Chloe, convinced of her theory, stepped forward.

She was scared to speak to Eric, especially with his current mood, but she swallowed her fear and began to speak, her voice slightly trembling. "We woke up, and the room was like this, covered in this substance, and..."

"And?" Eric raised an eyebrow, unsatisfied with her explanation. He wanted a culprit, someone to punish for this action.

Chloe glanced in Michelle's direction, who immediately understood what was about to happen. Michelle paled, realizing the trouble she would be in within seconds. She had no way to defend herself.

It was her word against at least three of theirs.

"Michelle was outside the dorm, she came back just in time to see us covered in this stuff... and she's clean," Chloe insisted.

Eric's head turned slowly to find the girl in question, and when he did, indeed seeing her completely clean and dressed for training, he smiled.

Shivers ran down ers spine as she saw his smile. It wasn't a good start.

"Oh really?" His tone was strangely light, cheerful, and Michelle swallowed the lump forming in her throat. What would happen to her?

Before Eric could speak, Max intervened. "Do you have any evidence that it was Michelle? Besides her absence from the dorms?"

"No—" Chloe tried to speak and continue her accusation, but she was interrupted by Lauren.

"Then let's not point fingers at anyone, I believe Michelle has a valid alibi for tonight, right?" Lauren turned to Michelle, expecting an answer, and the girl nodded. "Good, then we'll check her alibi now and then we'll see."

"I don't think that's necessary, it's quite obvious," Eric said, annoyed. "Get up, come with me."

Michelle didn't immediately get up, and the boy looked at her, the smile gone. "Now!" he shouted.

Michelle stood up abruptly, following the blond boy out of the dormitory, hoping that at least Lauren would join them. She kept her head held high as she followed Eric along a series of different corridors until they reached a door on the right.

Someone was following her, she heard footsteps, and she fervently hoped it was Lauren and not Max. She needed someone for support.

Eric opened the door for her, gesturing for her to enter, and feeling very uncertain, she stepped inside, trying not to turn her back on the boy for too long. Inside was a long table with several chairs, and what made her most uncomfortable was how unnervingly calm Eric was.

"Sit down," he ordered, and Michelle complied, taking a seat as far away from him as possible. But of course, the boy had no intention of letting her off so easily and approached her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Michelle saw Max and Lauren enter, which made her feel a little better. How could she testify to her innocence? She would have to ask Four to testify for her.

Max approached them, a serious and bored expression on his face. "Michelle, let's make things clear. Did you do this?"

"No."

"Do you have a way to prove your innocence?"

"Yes."

"How?" Eric asked sharply, convinced that hers was a falsehood.

"Four."

The three leaders looked at each other in confusion.

"Explain," Eric ordered, ready to catch Four in an inquisition and dismiss him.

"I was training, he arrived too, we sparred, and then I returned to the dormitory," Michelle began, unconsciously playing with her cuticles.

Max observed her bandaged knuckles and glanced at Lauren, who nodded and left the room.

However, Eric wasn't satisfied with her brief explanation. "Why were you outside the dormitory in the middle of the night? You know it's forbidden, or do I need to remind you?"

"I was training," Michelle simply replied, trying to remain as calm as possible, not wanting to get agitated and give Eric any satisfaction.

She wouldn't play his stupid game.

"And why?"

"To improve."

Eric clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Oh, because you know you're weak and incapable? Hmm, I can accept that even though I warn you how useless it is in your situation."

Michelle remained still, silent, as she absorbed the young leader's criticism in front of her. She had to try not to be influenced by his words; they were baseless cruelties and she shouldn't give them weight.

He was a jerk, an asshole, selfish, and arrogant. She wanted to smash his face in more and more with every inch he approached her. They were face to face, at the same height, his gray eyes against her blue ones.

Max watched the scene from outside, intrigued.

Their staring match was interrupted after a couple of minutes when the door of the room opened, letting in Lauren and then Four, who seemed anything but happy to be there. Eric straightened up, shifting his attention to his peer, ready to hear what he had to say, but Max spoke up first.

"Four, we've called you here to testify that Michelle was in the training dorms all night. She said you were together at some point," his tone was monotone as he spoke to the boy, Eric beside him crossing his arms, waiting for his response.

The boy briefly glanced at Michelle before returning his gaze to Max's eyes. "Yes, that's true" he said.

Max nodded, perhaps a little unconvinced, before letting them both go their separate ways. But it wasn't him who was most bothered by the situation; it was Eric, who watched Michelle's back as she walked away as if he wanted to plant knives in it.

When the door of the room closed behind them, Michelle released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, stopping in the corridor to try to understand what had just happened.

Was someone trying to blame her?

"Everything alright?" Four turned back, not hearing her footsteps.

She nodded, resuming walking as if nothing had happened. She had promised herself not to show weakness to anyone, not even Four; his kindness towards her made her suspicious, the way he interacted with her was different from how he did with others.

"We'll find whoever is behind this tasteless joke, you don't have to worry about Eric," he assured.

"I'm not worried," she lied, a big one at that. Eric's hostility towards her was unfounded; she had done nothing to antagonize him other than blocking his blows during training.

But was that really enough reason for him to hate her? As a leader and coach, he should have been proud of her, happy to see that an inexperienced initiate was able to put up some challenge.

They walked in silence through the long corridors until they reached the dormitories again, where the boys were cleaning the strange dust off the walls, their skin speckled with gray patches.

Chloe's excitement faded when she saw Four return with Michelle, still intact, ordering her to go take a shower and then go help the other initiates clean the room.

She was grateful; she hadn't had the chance to change out of the clothes she had trained in that night, and she felt sticky all over, a light layer of persistent sweat on her skin.

"Keep cleaning, when you're done, meet us in the gym!" Four said before leaving.

Chloe threw the rag she was cleaning the floor with to the ground and angrily approached Michelle, grabbing her shoulder and forcefully turning her around before delivering a punch to her cheek.

Michelle whimpered, touching her face. It was the same spot where Eric had hit her earlier in the week, and the bruise hadn't completely faded yet.

"You're sleeping with Four, aren't you?" Michelle stopped to stare at the girl with wide eyes, incredulous to hear her words. "You break the few rules we have, pull this stunt, and still nothing happens to you. You even skipped the fight yesterday, what a coincidence!"

The room fell silent, and Sunny joined Michelle, standing by her side. "What the hell, Chloe?"

"No, I'm not talking to you!" Chloe was furious, pushing Michelle again, and Sunny intervened to stand between them, receiving a slap from Chloe. "Tell me, who? Four or Eric? Huh?"

Michelle looked at her confusedly and smiled, then laughed lightly. Sunny turned to her sharply, never having heard her laugh before. "Chloe, I'm not the whore here," she said, still holding her hand to her cheek.

"What do you mean?" the girl said through gritted teeth, her eyes frantic as she glared at her with anger. Connor and Patrik approached their friend, passing by the group of boys who had formed a circle to watch the argument between the two former Candor members.

Chloe knew exactly what Michelle was referring to. They were no longer in their old faction, but if anyone were to expose that information, her reputation would be permanently stained. Not to mention the trouble it would cause for the other person involved.

Michelle smiled even more, and the brunette next to her shuddered slightly. Her smile, at that moment, seemed sadistic. "You know very well," Michelle said.

Chloe remained silent, straightening up and returning to her original position, not wanting Michelle to reveal that secret out of spite. What worried her the most was one thing: how Michelle could be aware of what had happened during that school year.

"Stay quiet, and we won't have any problems," Chloe said, turning her back to Michelle, effectively putting an end to the small spectacle that had unfolded.

As the crowd of students dispersed, Sunny turned back to Chloe with a puzzled expression. "What have happened to make her react like that? She seemed ready to pounce on you until you mentioned that!"

"She slept with a teacher to pass the year" Michelle replied simply, heading off to finally take a shower. She left her friend behind, mouth agape, as she contemplated the revelation.

Michelle had stumbled upon the secret by chance, her curiosity leading her to the rooftop of their school where she caught them in the act. She wished she could wash her eyes out with bleach to rid herself of the memory.

If the secret were to come to light, it would undoubtedly spark the most scandalous uproar their faction had ever witnessed. Michelle, however, had resolved to keep it buried, seeing no advantage in its exposure. On the contrary, she feared repercussions for herself, for once again venturing into forbidden territory.

Even as she turned the faucet, the echo of their voices from the adjacent room persisted, but she pushed them to the back of her mind. What lingered, haunting her thoughts, were Eric's words—spat with such venom and malice that they cast a shadow of doubt over her very being.

She knew she had to demonstrate her superiority to all. Yet, the path ahead seemed strewn with obstacles.

After finishing her shower, Michelle joined her companions to help with the remaining tasks. They had already completed most of the work before they headed to the gym, almost two hours later than usual.

Upon their arrival, Four and Eric were already present, standing in front of the board with the names of those who would be fighting that day. Everyone was there, even those who had taken a beating the day before.

"Run three laps as warm-up, then come back here!" Four instructed the boys, who started jogging around the room.

Before joining them, Michelle approached the board to check who she would be matched against for the upcoming fight. She drew close to the board under Eric's watchful eye, who observed her with almost disdain.

"Scared of ruining that pretty face?" Eric's hand shot out unexpectedly, catching Michelle off guard as he took hold of her chin to inspect her face, smiling at the fresh bruise. "Oh, it's already ruined. What a shame."

His tone was sarcastic, and Michelle hated the sensation she felt when his hand touched her face. She wanted to rip his hand away, yet at the same time, the warmth it left behind was something she longed to feel again.

When Michelle saw who she was matched against, she scowled. As much as she couldn't stand Tina's shrill voice, at that moment, she wished she could smash someone's face in. Why not the girl who had punched her a couple of hours earlier?

"I want to fight Chloe," she said, looking Eric straight in the eye, who raised an eyebrow, smiling.

"Do you really think you have a say in this?" he chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Michelle contemplated begging him, maybe it would work. "Please," her voice was barely a whisper, and the young leader's smile faded as he straightened up from where he was leaning against the wall.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch it," he said.

"Please, Eric," she said louder, and he observed her, noting her clear eyes and the bruise on the side of her cheek that had broken a few blood vessels in her eye.

He considered her request; she wasn't asking to back out of the fight but to change opponents. He would have said no to anyone else, but his old Erudite mind immediately grasped her purpose.

He arched his lips into a smirk, watching Chloe jog to the other side of the room. It would be amusing to see Michelle take her frustrations out on her companion, especially after accusing her of being involved in the prank.

He turned to look at the initiate in front of him before giving her his back and changing the names on the board. When he turned back, he didn't find Michelle; she had left after getting what she wanted.

"In the center!" Eric yelled, gathering all the initiates. He decided to make a small change to the list. "Chloe and Michelle, on the mat."

Four, who had joined him, looked at him. "That's not the pair or the order," he said, watching the two girls take their positions.

"I don't care," was all Eric said, keeping his eyes fixed on them. "It will be entertaining."

Four looked worriedly at the pair before resigning himself to the situation and watching the match unfold. He couldn't do anything if Eric said otherwise.

The two girls faced each other, Chloe ready in defense, confident she would win the bout. She threw the first punch, but Michelle dodged it, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards her, causing Chloe's fist to collide with her own face.

The girl stumbled back, holding her bleeding nose in her hands.

Michelle felt a surge of satisfaction; striking her opponent's face had given her a sense of fulfillment she had never experienced before. She brought her hands up to her face, ready for a response from her adversary.

Chloe didn't take long to compose herself and launch herself at Michelle, blinded by anger. How dare she behave like this towards her?

For a while, Michelle continued to dodge her blows, careful to observe every move Chloe made. Before attacking, she moved her fingers, as if realigning them after each strike.

She dodged a blow to her temple, but Chloe still managed to catch her off guard, sweeping her feet out from under her. Chloe pounced on her, pinning her to the mat and starting to repeatedly strike her in the face.

Eric smiled at seeing the girl on the ground, finding it ridiculous how it had all ended up like this, while Four walked away, not wanting to witness the scene. It would be hard to get out of that position, especially if the opponent kept hitting you in the face.

"Come on, Michelle!" Sunny cheered, and Michelle, determined not to be overpowered, gathered all her strength. Despite the throbbing in her head, she managed to free one arm and strike Chloe in the throat.

The girl stopped hitting her, rolling to the side with the sensation of suffocating. Michelle seized the opportunity and threw herself on top of her, pinning her down.

Now it was her turn to strike; she felt nothing, a loud ringing filled her ears, her vision was blurred, and her head pounded, but she kept hitting her, harder and harder.

Chloe's hands tried to push her away in every way possible, but by now Michelle had only one thing in mind: to finish it.

It felt as if she were watching the scene from outside herself, unable to stop, but what worried her the most was that she didn't want to stop. She would continue until the last breath left the girl's lips beneath her.

"That's enough," Eric said, observing the scene, Chloe now unconscious on the mat.

He was pleased with what he had seen; he hadn't expected such a reversal, but his almost happiness was cut short when he saw Michelle continue to strike Chloe.

"Initiate, I said enough!" he raised his voice, and Michelle stopped, still not taking her eyes off Chloe's almost unrecognizable, inert body.

She looked up, watching Eric, who nodded for her to move away from the girl. She obeyed, getting to her feet and wiping the blood from her nose with the sleeve of her hoodie.

She was short of breath, and a strong metallic smell invaded her nostrils. Blood.

She left without saying a word to anyone, and no one said anything to her, not even Eric, who let her go.

"I told you, she's capable," Four said upon his return, now worried not only for her well-being but for what she might become.

He had witnessed the final part of the match and saw how Michelle struck Chloe, with pure fury and hatred.

"She's dangerous," Eric said, watching her leave, a smile on his lips. "I don't mind."

That was the beginning of the end for Michelle.

[batsplat]

casey if you want the showers-

https://www.tumblr.com/kingofthering/766887733130084352/sounds-fantastic

random thought: maybe being a part of a structure like the academy might have fixed teenage casey stoner……

(x) he's getting in the shower, he's enjoying the sausage, he's having it all

and oh hm this is SUCH an interesting idea that had never occurred to me. with the academy, I often think about how valentino himself never ever would have joined it... just this implicitly subservient position to another rider, any restraints placed on individualism, losing the ability to define himself to the same extent... I do actually think valentino would be pretty good at team sports, like it's not a loner mentality that would be the dealbreaker - it's just that specifically the academy vibe would not have been for him

with casey... I mean, yeah, maybe? yeah, I reckon you're right. that could have worked miracles for casey. the closest he got was being one of alberto puig's kids for a while (hence the 27 to dani's 26), but obviously that was a very different vibe. this is how puig is being described in 2006 (x):

Puig is a very powerful figure in the paddock, running teams in the lower classes, as well as the MotoGP Academy, widely acknowledged as the best route into premier class racing for young riders. His influence is hard to exaggerate, and when you add in his forceful personality, known for attempting to silence those who criticize his riders, this makes him a potentially disruptive figure in any team. He is, like so many people involved at the very highest levels of professional sport, utterly driven, and people who are so driven often find it difficult to keep a sense of perspective. Alberto Puig is concerned with only one thing: that the riders he coaches should win. Nothing else matters. In a sense, this is totally understandable: He is paid to nurture young talent to produce winning riders, and he is remarkably good at his job. But his focus and his drive rubs off on his protégés, and can turn them into single-minded, dour automatons, concerned only with their own performance, and little else.

not very valentino, is it. like you do probably want an actual academy-esque structure where the kids within it actually get the chance to... y'know. bond. care about each other. no puig

and while puig did play a critical role in casey's career, that's still a connection that had more or less fizzled out by the time casey gets to motogp. so obviously no real equivalent in casey's career. and... I mean, yeah, surely it would have changed a lot. it always comes back to the same few things with casey, doesn't it. casey, who was bullied at school, who was frequently made an outsider even in the australian motorcycling community until he was eventually pushed out of the country entirely... the impact of this hypothetical academy structure does depend a bit on when it would GET to casey - because by the age vr46 typically steps in, a lot of casey's formative experiences have already happened to him. he doesn't get a racing licence from the AJRRA (the australian road racing association controlled mainly by parents of kids casey had been beating most of his life). he has to leave the country. they leave his sister behind. they depend on the charity of others in england. his family is 100% financially dependent on his racing success. every opportunity feels like it could be his last. like... this is stuff that's kind of set by the time he's 14-15. the contrast between his childhood and valentino's is discussed in this post:

and yeah, obviously a lot of that stuff would have already happened. then again, having somebody step in when he was... what, maybe 16-17-ish? and give him some job + financial security... I mean in blunt terms, I know this ask was probably more thinking about the community aspect - but you cannot understate the importance that these practical elements would have had for casey. and yes, there's the more emotional element of... finally being let into a club, of having someone fight your corner, of knowing you've got this structure looking out for you. of handling your contract negotiations - casey also talks about how he and his father frequently just felt like they didn't GET the paddock politics; the insider/outsider dynamic is so foundational to his experience in the sport. all these unspoken rules casey just didn't know... having someone there who DOES know and is looking out for you and can take care of everything bar the riding would have made such a difference

and my god, yeah, there's the community aspect. so much of casey's time in the sport is defined by how deeply, deeply lonely he was. the childhood friendships he'd had either get left behind or are eroded by competitive tensions. he never gets close to another premier class rider, doesn't get particularly close to his team either. in 2009, he said his only friend in the paddock was his wife. and... y'know, while I have no doubt the paddock could feel like a pretty hostile place, I also reckon it would've been a good thing for someone to force casey out of his shell a little bit. like, I get not getting close to your direct competitors, I doubt I'd be massively different, but maintaining that level of distance from basically everyone you travel with most of the year feels... not ideal. at least befriend some of the mechanics my man. looking at some of the canonical vr46 academy riders - naming no names, but I can also easily imagine them in the loner category if the academy hadn't picked them up. and at least THEY could still fall back on childhood friends and acquaintances if they hadn't had the academy, more so than a bloke who moved to a different continent aged fourteen. casey needed some friends!! and maybe just an occasional reminder that not the whole world is out to get him

so YEAH I do agree an academy-esque structure would've made a MASSIVE difference... to the extent that it's almost tough to imagine that version of casey. it does make you realise just how foundational all of this angst feels to casey, in a sad way. what does he even look like without his isolation... you might wonder whether that change would take a bit of his edge away - it's just undeniable that he got a lot of motivation and drive out of his oppositional dynamic with the rest of the world. he wanted to show everyone that they were wrong about him... the rejection by the club back home in australia made him angry, the rejection of teams in motogp made him angry... and well, his circumstances did make him desperate. they made him hungry. it's what he talks about here, isn't it, the feeling that some young riders just aren't taking their riding seriously enough, contrasting it to how he knew he had to take every single opportunity he was given. valentino vs casey about young riders (2009//2013):

(remember that the question valentino got explicitly referred back to an earlier answer about casey - "serious and sad" is kinda his characterisation of casey specifically)

then again. saying this pain was necessary to casey's success would be needlessly myopic, casey has plenty of drive even without piling on the horrors when he was 16-20, give the kid some friends y'know. you can still be plenty neurotic within an academy, you can still cultivate a persecution complex, look at pecco. also, y'know, obviously sports success isn't worth miserable children and never will be. and I suspect casey himself has softened a bit from the stance expressed in his autobiography - I've been thinking again about that podcast interview he gave earlier this year that takes a more explicitly critical view on how his parents forced their dream on him

speaking of, another big benefit of the academy is in outsourcing the role of enforcing discipline so that it's no longer the parents doing it, which again just feels considerably healthier. casey basically says as much in his autobiography:

though, again, I wouldn't call puig a particularly helpful influence either, and jorge's experience with amatriain should be enough evidence that it doesn't take a parent to establish an unhealthy (and even abusive) dynamic. obviously, the assumption here is that you drop casey in a vr46-esque academy - for all his sins, the academy valentino set up in no way resembles how these other 'talent spotters' manage their charges. it's just... it's a safety net, isn't it, in every sense. financially, job security-wise, socially... obviously it's always going to be performance-dependent, yes, but that bit's never going to be an issue for any version of casey

so, yeah. maybe not 'fix' casey exactly, but it would've changed so much for him... it does feel like it would've been an unambiguously positive presence in his life. no, it wouldn't just erase all his issues with the sport - but if he could've found a place within an academy structure like that, he would've been a lot happier for it. probably could've loved the sport more than he did. certainly would've felt a lot less alone

[boykingscourt]

thoughts on spn s8

ahh... good old s8

though it's been a while since I've watched it all the way through (currently in s6 with my friend) s8 without a doubt brings out the most mixed feelings for me compared to any other season

fair warning this got kinda long

let's start with the good:

1 ) the sam and dean drama

if you can look at it objectively, shutting out the narrative's dean bias and the general fandom reaction, it's just delicious. I've seen it referred to as the samndean dual cheating arc, which I love rather you consider that romantic or just in the weird brothers way lmao.

I'm a big fan of benny and unlike most of the fandom don't mind the sam/amelia plot. I like it what it represents for sam's character, showing just how mismatched sam and dean's priorities are in the beginning of the season. and even though sam would cop shit from dean, the narrative, and the fandom at large, those rare moments where he stands up to dean feel like mana from heaven

2 ) TRIALS TRIALS TRIALS

this is the most important aspect of s8 for me and maybe what I should have led with, but I'm sure it's not surprising coming from a sam stan or just if you're at all familiar with my blog (hopefully you are <3)

the trials arc is one of my all-time favorite sam arcs. it has unique whump, deep and meaningful revelations for his character, and ends with one of spn's greatest season finales (to me, and I'm always right)

it also spawned one of the scenes of ALL TIME, 8x21's "I'm not clean" iconic 10/10

the trials arc is of course absolutely heartbreaking from a sam perspective, especially when thinking about s8 collectively. sam going from defending himself and his choices against dean's unfair criticism -> choosing to leave his life with amelia behind -> bravely undertaking the trials but wanting to come out on the other side alive -> not caring if it kills him in the end because of his feelings of unworthiness, guilt over his past mistakes, and (chiefly) dean's infantilization and constant reminders of all that sam has done "wrong" is one of the most sickening (affectionate) journeys I've seen a character go on. even if most of the fandom doesn't recognize it for what it is, at least the dedicated sam corner of the fandom does, and I will never tire of reading trials-related meta

3 ) very distinct arcs

this probably seems trivial in relation to the other two but I like how s8 feels like two or three different seasons mashed into one

now let's talk about the bad:

1 ) wasted potential

you could say this about a lot of spn seasons/plotlines, especially the later ones, so of course it applies here too. as much as I like benny, I think there's more they could have done with him, mainly giving him more interactions with sam! I feel the same about henry winchester too. I didn't need peepaw to stick around forever, but without a doubt they should've given him more than one measly episode. he and sam had serious potential to bond and grow close, making his death (ideally later in the season) much more impactful

2 ) too much angel crap

I really can't tell you how sick I got of angel politics, and s8 only gives us a taste of many more boring conflicts to come. the angel "trials" do nothing for me, I hardly remember anything that's going on with c*s once he comes back from purgatory minus that cringe ass swan song imitation they give him and dean (and it's memorable for the wrong reasons), and the angels falling, which seems to be a big deal at first, is extremely underwhelming once s9 rolls around (maybe it's not fair to pin that on s8 but whatever)

3 ) narrative bias towards dean/fandom reaction to sam

maybe this is also not fair to pin entirely on s8, but these things are unfortunately forever intertwined in my mind and color my view of the season as a whole. s8 sam is arguably the most misunderstood and slandered sam of the whole series. you could certainly make that argument for s4 sam, s9 sam, even s5 sam, but I'm sure you will agree s8 sam is up there no matter which sam wins that crown for you

the significance of the trials and what they reveal about sam's character is entirely lost on most of the audience. all we seem to hear about instead is how stupid and pointless they find the amelia plotline, how jealous and unreasonable sam is regarding benny, and (you already know it!) endless endless ENDLESS "waaaaaahhhh sam didn't look for dean!!" just one of the three of those is enough to drive me insane, and we are instead treated to all three and more!

couple this with the narrative's dean bias (and s8 just happens to be the moment where, in my opinion, this bias becomes fixed and permanent) you are left with some of the worst takes and most fuck ass sam meta you can imagine, some of it being so bad I've heard of many instances of sam stans taking a break from spn or just checking out entirely around this time

s8 my beloved and s8 my beloathed

although maybe this is all entirely too serious and I should instead just thank s8 for its greatest gifts: estrogen!jared sam with his beautiful tan and glorious long glossy chestnut hair AND sickly trials era bella swan sam, both of whom I want to abandon the silverware for and eat with my bare hands

thanks so much for this ask, and if you were expecting a succinct response instead, I sincerely apologize

[the-witchs-cafe]

Hi there- I hope it's not too much to ask, but, if that's alright, do you have any advice on designing witches in general? Or if there's a certain philosophy you follow in regards to it?

It isn't at all, dearie! Thank you so, very much for asking in the first place!! I cannot emphasize how much this has warmed my heart ^^ /v v pos

My most important advice above all else...if you ask me, I say it's best to take all the time that you need- even if it took weeks, months, or even a year or two, it's best to allow your brain to cook at its leisure. In the meanwhile, I also recommend setting up a way you could archive any and all inspirations/ideas that come your way- whether we're talking about an inspiration board or even a discord server that only exists to compile information, just find a method that best suits yourself and stick with it.

Don't be afraid of going off the walls when designing the witch themselves, either; so long as a theme has been established and everything is sticking to it, you won't have a thing to worry about.

I mean, come on! Ophelia is dubbed as the Witch of Wudan, with a European name serving as a reference to Hamlet, possesses a candle for a head, and has powers over illusions. Candeloro, meanwhile, is a headless little toy known as the "witch of dress-up", whose labyrinth possesses a river of blood contrasting with the idyllic scenery of her labyrinth, and had taken all the measures she's managed to come up with in order to keep her familiars from leaving her alone.

To bring my own creations into the spotlight of shame, and ironically so when considering who he was, Sayf al-Muharib is the Gladiator Warlock who resembles a sheep-wolf hybrid with design elements invoking both the Golden Calf and a "wolf in sheep's clothing" (full credit goes to @gummybonebanes for the wolf part esp), is constantly burning/melting so that he could further imitate his hero, has an Arabic name that means "the warrior's sword" in spite of Gladiators being a mainly Roman thing and his weapon being a HALBERD, and the center of his labyrinth even looks like a soccer arena once you take a good look at it.

All these aspects may look like they make little to no sense for them to be put together, but, once you look at them a little closely and inspect the people they once were, it all begins to fall into place. Like working with individual cogs of a machine, just try to find the piece that keeps the design operational and working in the manner that befits what you had in mind. I also recommend looking at other media that possess story elements that happen to be similar to PMMM's witches for further inspiration as well, such as the Baal bosses from the Bravely series, or the abyss enemies and the concept of the samsara from Genshin Impact.

Finally, and I know this sounds corny as hell, but...don't stress about the design and the labyrinth too much, and try not to push yourself to write even when you're nervous or are dealing with other unrelated strifes. The reason why I regret how Bianchi and Liang-Hui turned out they way they did is because I was, for lack of better terms, not at all in the chillest of moods to write, and, boy, do I regret that now. Find the right mindset and mood you want the labyrinth to embody, try to capture that very emotion and sensation, and just go from there!

For example, the reason why Kealamauloa Kinimaka's labyrinth is the way it is and why I am so proud of it is because not only does every little detail symbolize an aspect of Hau's life, but it invokes a certain emotion; comfort and disconnection from the struggles around you, and, by letting go, you could even float high up to the skies. Sayf al-Muharib's, meanwhile, invokes the emotion of being watched at all angles; denied of freedom by the people surrounding you as you struggle to strive forwards through these suffocating hallways, with the withered statues of his older brother looking down on him- casting a reflection of the beast and failure he has become.

Remember, a labyrinth is the "mental headspace of a magi prior to witchification", as stated by the creators themselves; it can be interpreted as their own worldview and how they saw themselves in the story they're in, the magnitude of their life struggles in their eyes, or are just places that exist to keep the witch's wounds wide open at all costs- a cage forged from their own curses, locking them in this eternal hellish state. Don't be afraid to exaggerate aspects of their lives when it comes to labyrinths; make us plunge into the eyes of the magical people they once were and how they saw their problems! It is all about perspective here.

Best of luck and wishes, anon- and godspeed!

[ashen-crest]

Hi RK! I think about you a lot as far as seeing the writer I want to be out in the wild. You self-published, right? Do you have a Guide for those of us wanting to follow your path, or advice on Where to Look for going in the self pub direction?

Hello and thank you so much!! I apologize if this gets rambly- there's a lot to cover, and I hope you stick with me through it.

I am indeed self-published! Everyone's situation and goals are different, but for me, I work full-time, write on the side, and want to push out professional-looking books because...well, because I want to. I currently don't plan to move to writing full-time, and I do have a job that helps cover the costs of an editor, cover designer, etc.

That's all important to establish up front, because that majorly impacts basically everything else about my strategy.

Because I work full-time, I can't write as fast as other folks. I also don't have as much time to spend on marketing. But because I work full-time, I can set aside money for a line editor, a cover designer, a proofreader, and an illustrator if needed, as well as cover a website, pre-order goodies, author copies for giveaways, a BookFunnel subscription, etc.

So, with all that...

Step 1:

Assess your goals, your abilities, your limits, and plan your strategy around that.

I realize that sounds really vague, but there are so many aspects to self-publishing, and so many things that can either cost $0 or $1,000, that it's worth jotting down the following first:

What you are comfortable & proficient with doing yourself (cover design? proofreading? making your own pre-order swag?)

What you have time for (things like social media, newsletters, and designing your own cover all take time)

What you have the money for (if you're going to spend money on anything, the conventional wisdom is cover design + editor)

What you have the energy for (book release speed, marketing, etc)

What your end goal is (publishing for fun? for a career? for something in between?)

Once you have all that jotted down, I'd plan out the following (and this is really starting from square one):

Your Books' Content

What genre do I want to write in? And do I want to put effort into targeting a sub-genre or sub-sub-genre (a successful strategy for career-focused indie authors), or would I prefer to keep myself flexible for creative purposes?

How much research do I want to put into this genre? A lot of intense indie authors will read a ton, research genre expectations, analyze tropes and covers, etc. But if you're just having fun, that's totally cool!

How quickly do I want to write? And the corollaries: do I want to write a bunch at once, then rapid-release? Or write and release one at a time?

What do I want my editing process to look like? I'd consider things like beta readers, sensitivity readers, and professional editors and/or proofreaders. (For later: don't forget about front and back matter, like copyright pages, acknowledgments, "leave a review and sign up for my newsletter!" pages, etc.)

Your Author Presence & Marketing

How do I want to appear as an author? Do you want to go all-out with a website, newsletter with reader magnets, Patreon and/or social media presence? Or pick and choose a few/none of those things? These are major time-sucks, and the conventional wisdom is that you don't want to try everything at once (particularly social media sites). Master one thing first, then move on to the next. (This is a, uh, do as I say and not as I do kinda situation...)

How do I want to handle cover design? Maybe the most important part of marketing besides your blurb. Please please don't skimp on it.

How do I price my books? Check other books in your genre and see what their average cost is.

What do I want my release strategy to look like? Pre-order goodies? ARCs? Giveaways?

Do I want to participate in any promos or paid advertising? The answer is typically 'no' at the beginning, but I've found BookFunnel to be helpful when it comes to distributing reader magnets and joining group promos.

The Technical & Business-y Aspects

(Not things you have to worry about right now, but things to eventually research and keep in mind.)

What format will my books be in? E-books are cheaper to produce than paperback and net you higher profits. But if you really wanna hold your book in your hand (like me) and write in a genre where readers buy paperbacks, then it could be worth planning for that as well.

How do I want to distribute my books? There are a ton of ways to distribute your book. Amazon, IngramSpark, Draft2Digital, Gumroad, Itchio, selling directly on a personal website, etc. If you also want your books in libraries and brick-and-mortar stores, that will impact your distribution strategy.

How will I typeset/format my book? You can do it through Word or Scrivener or even Reedsy's site, but there are also paid programs that make it easier and freelancers who can do it for you.

What sort of licenses do I need to sell books? The really not-fun part. Check your federal, state, county, and city for any required selling permits, business licenses, and tax rules. I'd also look into if you want to set up a DBA ("doing business as") or an EIN (basically a business tax ID number so you don't have to use your personal SSN).

What sort of ID numbers do my books need? For example, in the US, you need ISBN codes sold by Bowker. Not required for ebook, but required for paperback, with a separate code needed for hardcover, translations, or subsequent editions.

How do I copyright my books? For the US, it's the US Copyright Office.

(US Only) Do I want an LCCN (Library of Congress control #) for my book? This helps you get into libraries. If you want a #, you need to fill out a form before your book publishes.

Resources!

I realize this is a LOT to research. Please don't feel like you need to do all the research at once or know everything right away. Put most of your focus into writing and set aside some time to tackle the other topics as you go.

Here are some resources I found to be helpful:

FB Group: Wide for the Win (all about distributing across multiple platforms)

FB Group: 20Booksto50K (very business-focused, almost to a fault, and has some failings, but also has some great advice and detailed insights. I'd recommend using this page only if you're very serious about self-pub)

FB Group: Author Unleashed (great for getting blurb feedback!)

David Gaughran's "Starting from Zero" free online video course, all about marketing when you're totally new to the game

Tammi Lebrecque's Newsletter Ninja books and resources, if you want to delve into newsletters and reader magnets

The Complete Guide to Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Bucket Siler

The Indie Author's Bible by Christopher D Schmitz

Becca Syme's series for indie authors

A word of warning...

There are a lot of people out there making money off writing resources, aka selling mining equipment to the miners rather than mining themselves. There are thousands of self-publishing gurus with books, consultation packages, sales funnel advice, etc. Before you throw a lot of money at those resources, do some research and take a look at what other indie authors recommend first. (If it helps, I really do trust David Gaughran, Tammi Lebrecque, and Becca Syme for starters.)

Okay that's it!

That was a lot. I'm so sorry. I'm happy to answer any specific questions or concerns you have!

[bumblebeeappletree]

Moving closer to a dense urban area often comes at the cost of garden and green space. But with creative planning, you can still have a productive and beautiful patch, even when you haven't got a lot of room to move.

Hannah visits self-taught gardeners in South Hobart who have made the most of a small urban garden, producing food year-round.

Vivienne Luke and partner Des moved here nine years ago after a decision to downsize from a larger property twenty kms out of town. “We were faced with the conundrum; how do you make a garden in a space like this?” says Vivienne. The previous garden was much bigger, with rich soil, flat aspect, and lots of sun. “It was wonderful... (Moving here), we wanted a vegetable garden, some fruit trees and a native garden, but we didn’t know what was possible.”

The outdoor space that wraps around Vivian and Des’ unit is only 150 square meters. The narrow sides are jam-packed with raised and inground vegie beds, climbers up the wall, fruit trees and a lovely native corner. And the unit balcony is now being consumed by pot plants. “I really got into pot plants because I ran out of space, and I wanted more space.” The original planting was hedges of camelias, which were removed in favour of raised vegie beds with inbuilt sitting space. “The height was really important to make it easy for me to use, but also the indentations in the beds make it just so much easier to reach each bed,” says Vivienne of the raised beds which are netted and protected from local pests.

The raspberries are Des’ domain "he isn’t really interested in the rest of the garden, but he loves his raspberries. I call him my sous chef... he gives them tender loving care all year round,” says Vivienne. Des harvests about one punnet a day in the summer and has built the raspberry bed against a Rio mesh structure. Des says, “it’s a very narrow bed, so we have to work hard at keeping them contained.” Vivienne adds, “(raspberries) are invasive, you have to control them, they even pop up in vegetable beds.” To maximise their produce, they’re using all the vertical space. “The beans love it there with the sun. And I discovered you can grow cucumbers vertically, so that’s been a great success,” says Vivienne. This garden has identified and utilised every microclimate that is available. Even the tomatoes are nestled up against a northeast-facing wall, soaking up the warmth.

Vivienne says, “it was one of my dreams to have a Tassie native garden... it’s a lovely place to come for quiet time” and is inspired by the variety of native flowers, perfumes and the symbiotic relationship between plants and birds. “Even just the smell of the leaves, there’s just nothing like it” says, Vivienne. The garden includes Banksia marginata, leptospermums, Pomaderris, Allocasuarina, low growing correas and a Eucalyptus caesia all designed in a layered wild planting for maximum impact and seclusion.

With tips on how to best use a small space for gardening, Vivienne says, “one of the crucial things is the orientation of the property, to maximise the sun. The other is spacing, and most important of all, grow what you want to eat. The things that you love are what you need to grow, it’s life-giving. I love getting out in the garden, I love watching it evolve... I can disappear into this space for hours and feel a lot better at the end of it.” It's important with limited space like this to do some planning around the amount of soil and sun you have, and to choose the right size plants so you can have easy access. And if you do happen to have a few failures along the way, don't worry. You’re still another step towards garden glory.