#i’m open to plotting and discussing dynamics as well

[khaleesizaldrizoti-a]

i’d love to get some interactions rolling. like this for a starter.

[readychilledwine]

Idk if you do requests but holy shit you are amazing but like on the off chance you do I’m feral over this idea you would absolutely kill for cassian or Azriel

I’m dying for a smart ass foul mouthed girl in the dirty book club that’s like half his size to get him all worked up teasing him every time he sees her but when he finally gets her alone she literally was all talk and is clueless and timid and he blows her fucking mind

I talk a big game but it’s all a bit and I have zero confidence to back it up 😂

Bonus points and my first born for…

Dumbification

Big ole size kink

& a praise link to feed the ✨ daddy issues ✨

All For Show

Summary - Cassian has gotten tired of you and your pretty little mouth. He just had to wait for the right moment to correct it.

Warnings - smut, praise kink, degradation, slight dumbification, shy reader x bold cassian, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), implied size kink (little reader x big cassian), public-ish sex, unprotected sex, a hint of Voyeurism, best friend ex dynamic, loose editing, I'm probably missing some to be honest.. oh, gwyriel mentioned. I apologize if it isn't your preferred ship, but it felt right for this fic.

A/N - I've shamefully written this three times because I wanted bonus points while also giving it plot 😅

🗡Cassian Masterlist🗡Master Masterlist🗡

Your mouth was going to get you in trouble one of these days, but you couldn't bring yourself to care as you laughed with the Valkyries. 

The 4 of you were deep into your book club meeting, discussing the recent salacious read that had Gwyn’s cheeks matching that shade of red hair you'd grown to love so much. Emerie high fived you, fingers linking together as the newly added Pegasus charms on your woven friendship bracelets made a soft clink. 

You were bold, especially with these 3, and your interest in the sex scene you all had just read was immediately noticed. “I mean,” Nesta genuinely laughed, “Who wouldn't want to have sex with their mate in front of their equally attractive friends?”

Gwyn shrieked, “Nesta!”

A deep throat cleared at that, reminding the four of you that you were in an open room of the House of Wind. That Cassian and Azriel were sitting right next to you. Gwyn shrunk further into her chair, Azriel smirking and chuckling at his.. whatever they had decided they were today, meanwhile Cassian had his eyes locked on you, a brow raised as you began to play with that bracelet. Deep pink, deep orange, and a purple-y navy stared back at you, the blend reminding you of a sunset. “Something to say, General,” Nesta looked her former lover up and down. “Y/n isn't interested.”

Oh, but you were, and he wasn't blind to that. “Just think this is interesting, that's all,” he grumbled. “Especially considering, y/n gets flustered when someone so much as touches her hips to adjust her stance.” Your glare shot his way as your friends began to laugh. Azriel hid a chuckle behind his hand. The tension between you and Cassian had been growing, especially due to the private hand to hand lessons he was giving you. 

“You grabbed me by my inner thigh,” you retorted, eyes rolling.

“And you turned the same shade of red aa the threads on that bracelet Ness wears,” he stated. “You talk a big game, sweetheart. Someone is going to call you on your shit one day.” If you were a smarter female, you would have realized that was a warning. 

Cassian was showing no mercy the next night as he threw you to your hands and knees for the fourth time in your 2 hour session. “What the hell, Cass?!” You were panting as you sat back in your heels. “Did you not get the memo that I am just a girl?”

His eyes rolled, “Stand up.” The part of you that had never responded to demands well sent him a look, head tilted back to study his imposing frame. The look you gave him was enough to break his calm. He was a General, a commander, practiced and poised, but you were ruining him. The tension between the two of you was ruining him. He had denied himself so much in this life, lost so much more. Why deny both of you what he knew you both wanted?

“You know what,” he muttered more to himself than you. “I can't do this anymore.” A hand found its way into your hair, strands wrapping around strong fingers as he pulled you to one of the benches, forcing you between his legs as he sat. “Show me,” he demanded.

“What-”

“Show me what you brag to your little friends about. Show you these skills you think you have.”

Your flush began immediately, “Cassian-”

"I knew it," he interrupted you, “Admit you're inexperienced.”

“I'm not inexperienced! I'm just shy!”

He studied you, hazel eyes taking in every inch of your skin as if you were some display. Even with your clothing on, you had never felt more exposed under his gaze. “Shy but can run your mouth to Ness? To Gwynie? To Em? Are you shy or do my hands make you shy?”

That furthered the flush as said large hand pulled your hair, angling your head back to look at him. “Cass-”

“I'm so tired of hearing you speak.” His lips crashed on yours then, forcing you into his lap, legs straddling one of his much larger thighs. Even like this, Cassian towered over you, consumed your frame. You had never considered yourself the smallest female, but with Cassian? Every female could feel small with Cassian.

His free hand slid down, tracing the curve of your breast, your waist, your hips before grabbing and squeezing your left thigh, forcing it over his other leg so you were fully straddling him and open to him. 

He pulled back, lips still close as you tried to catch your breath, “Good,” he almost seemed to vibrate with his lust. “That's my Good Girl.” 

There was no patience as he pulled your training top off, no ceremony as he took your bra off after it. Cassian was a male in need, something you felt every time he moved and his hips ground his covered length against you. 

A silent prayer was sent to the Gods, thanking them for Nesta being in Autumn with Eris for the next week. While it didn't promise no one would walk into the training ring on you two, it did promise at least Nesta wouldn't. His mouth moved down your neck, kissing and nipping until he found the spot that had you melting to his form. “That's it,” his voice had grown deep as he licked at your skin. “Relax, sweetheart. Let me have you.” 

Maybe it was because your brain stopped functioning. Maybe it was because something in you just seemed to float in his presence, but you didn't remember getting laid back on the mat, nor your leather pants slowly removed inch by inch as he whispered praise. You didn't remember his own clothing meeting the pile of yours somewhere off to your side. But you remembered his kiss bringing you back to him, “So we go dumb?” He forced you to nod. “I bet you just love being cock drunk, don't you, princess,” the nod wasn't forced this time, his smirk growing as he looked to the sky as if to say his own thank you. 

His hands and lips explored every inch, the soft gasps and noises you made his consent, the way you squeezed his fingers encouragement. His tongue swirled your nipple, wetting the tender nerves before latching onto it, rolling and sucking. You couldn't help but arch your back, whispering his title, his name. 

“You sound like I imagined you would,” he murmured as he kissed his way to your other breast, offering the same treatment as his words shot to your core. He had imagined you. Imagined how you would sound below him, maybe on top of him. 

His kisses began to trail lower, paying extra attention to the sensitive spots he found. He stopped at the hem of your panties, eyes glancing to meet yours, “This is your chance to tell me to stop. If I keep going, that's it. It's you being manhandled by me until I'm done with you, understand?”

The whimper that left your throat at that was almost sinful, “Cassian, please.”

“Use your words,” he demanded. “Use that your mouth to tell me what you want done. You like to run it when you think I'm not listening. Talking about how you want to ride cock and be tied up and used like you aren't telling everyone my dreams.”

Another whine as he licked your core, protected from that skilled tongue by thin lace. “Words,” he demanded again.

“Please taste me.” The tear of fabric followed that plea, all caution thrown to the wind as he dived in. 

Cassian wanted to taste every inch of your core. His tongue running over the left side, the right, your clit, your wet entrance. Emerie had told you once enthusiastic partners made sex better and you knew why now. Cassian not only knew what he was doing, but it was clearly his pleasure to be doing it. Each plunge of his tongue inside of you was met with him moaning or groaning, lips vibrating the sensitive parts of your body and building the feeling desperation that slowly wanted to kick in. You sat up on your elbows, watching him as he glanced up, hazel eyes dark and watching your face. Each reaction was a reward to him, your heart seeming to tug at the pride gleaming in his eyes at each little noise that escaped you. 

No novel compared to this. 

No words could describe it. 

Your stomach was growing tight, head falling back as he feasted as if you were the most delicious meal he'd had in over 500 years of life. His lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, tongue making half circle shapes around your far too aching clit as a thick finger ran your core and gently pushing in.

“Cassian,” your body seemed to shutter in pleasure, tightening around that single digit. “Cauldron fry me,” you moaned as he curled his finger up, immediately locating that special spot inside of you. 

This was just his finger. Just his finger had you feeling like you were stretching to a limit as he worked his tongue and hand in time, the band inside of you going taunt. He was careful as he added in a second, watching your face as if he knew. As if he could feel that little panic building in your mind. 

He washed it away as he changed how his tongue was moving, now giving teasing motions with just the tip directly where your body was screaming to be touched. He watched your eyes close, watched your guard drop as your hips moved, wanting to ride his face and fingers. He would have normally allowed it, but not this time. Not when he so desperately wanted control and to prove you were all talk. Not when he so desperately wanted you to be his. Your walls began to tighten again, his name becoming something you couldn't even finish as your gasps and panting increased. 

Then you tumbled. You fell from the edge, squeezing those two fingers so hard he struggled to work you through your high with them. His free forearm pushed down on your hips, forcing you to stay still and at his mercy. He only slowed down when your trembling did, fingers coming out of you so he could lick them clean, his own hazel eyes fluttering shut. He moved up, kissing you again and forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Off,” you begged, mind going hazy as you tugged his own leathers. Your request was met, Cassian standing over you as you instantly moved to your knees, watching his hands unlace before pulling down. His cock stood hard for you. It was thick, long, veins in places you knew were going to touch the perfect spots inside of you. 

Cassian was larger than any male you'd ever been with, and it had been a while since you had been with anyone. He was a challenge, one you were prepared to meet as you felt your mind fully slip away. “Open,” he whispered. His own stomach flipped with excitement when you obeyed, hand grabbing your high ponytail as he moved his hips and your head forward. This was something you knew, mind immediately working on the sole goal of his pleasure as you began to lick and suck, head bobbing. His hips met your pace, not pushing or forcing. “Just like that, sweetheart. Putting that mouth to good use for once,” he groaned. He tasted of something purely Cassian. Of salt and power. “You look beautiful like this,” his hips increased slightly, encouraging you to do so as well. “Mouth wrapped around my cock, looking up at me with those pretty eyes. Such a good girl.” 

He wouldn't give you the satisfaction of making him finish like this. No. He wanted that to happen when he was buried inside of you, you ass bouncing with each thrust he would give you. He watched you closely as you sucked him off, tongue and lips wetting him until he was sure he wouldn't last if you kept going.

Whines of protest left you as he pulled you off, walking you the bench and forcing you to crawl with his grip on your hair. “Hands on the bench.” An order you were not dumb enough to deny, positioning yourself as he asked. He kneeled behind you, kissing your spine as he forced a knee up on the bench as well. It wasn't comfortable, but it would be effective. “Breathe.” Another command from the General of the Night Court as he lined up with you and began pushing in. 

“Gods!” Each inch of him seemed to knock the air from your lungs, your breathing ragged. “Cassian, I can't-”

“You can,” he silenced you. “Breathe. Breathe like we taught you.” He timed his entrance with each deep breath, groaning once he was fully inside of you. His hand went to the small of your stomach, dirty thoughts about wanting to be big enough he could feel and see himself inside of you.

The first rock of his hips had you almost shouting your moans. He reached places you'd never known. Places no one had ever touched. You were like a vice around him, the stretch burning and adding to your pleasure as he began to move, stroking that building fire with care. It didn't long for the training area to smell like sex. To be filled with the sounds of his deep groans, you gasps and pleads, the sounds of skin hitting. 

His hands reached forward, wanting more control of you as he grabbed your arms, holding and forcing them behind your back and making you arch more for him. Helpless. You were helpless. 

And that's when the Cassian Nesta had described to you all began. 

His thrusts became fast and hard, hitting your g spot over and over. His hand that wasn't holding your wrists found your throat, resting there and giving one squeeze to test the waters. You couldn't even moan his name anymore as that fire grew, all words were lost to you, all thoughts eddied before falling to silence. Your body wanted to feel. And feel you did. 

Every drag was a spark, every word he whispered in your ear a kindling. You would burn. You would burn alive if he didn't stop. That tension built again, faster than it had with any other partner. 

Cassian was a God. No one could convince you otherwise as those scarred lips pressed against your temple. “I won't last,” he muttered. “You're too warm. Too tight. You have me, princess. You and this pretty pussy.” He smirked as a wanton moan left your throat, the heat of his body sending you into overdrive. 

You wouldn't last either.

Frankly, you didn't want to. 

His hand squeezed your throat again, his pace becoming less patterned and wild. He was chasing your high like a predator closing in on its next meal, and when you seemed to freeze, body tensing before a scream tore through you, he served himself. 

“That's it, y/n. Doesn't that feel so right, angel? Falling apart with me inside of you,” he grunted as he fought off his own high. “You feel like heaven, y/n. So good, baby. So fucking good.” His voice prolonged your high, forcing you into a state of overstimulation. You collapsed against him, body putty to his will as he chased his own orgasm.

“Fuck,” he yelled before you felt him give one last hard push into you, warmth spreading as his spilled inside. His hands moved, one shooting out to wrap around your hips, forcing you to stay down. The one found the bench, stopping the forward motion from you both falling into it, protecting you even as his mind clouded to the feeling of you squeezing around him.

This didn't just feel like heaven. It was heaven. 

He moved your leg down once he was done, his hand now finding your chin to tilt your head and kiss you softly. “You did so well,” he said against your swollen lips. “So responsive for me. Felt so good. Was it good, sweetheart?” You only nodded, biting your lower lip as he showered you with more praises. “Let's get you dressed so I can get you in a bath.”

Your arms held his right one once you two were dressed and walking towards the house. He only paused when the door opened, and Azriel sighed, holding Gwyn against him as she blushed and squirmed, “You couldn't have kept going,” Azriel teased. “Gwyn was enjoying the show.” Your face fell, realizing you had been caught and watched. Teal eyes met yours, her own blush spreading out from where Azriel had a hand on her mouth. “Come on, my light,” Azriel purred to her. “Time to go do dagger training.”

Cassian laughed as he continued pulling you in the house, pulling you to his room, to his tub. 

You could face the consequences of Nesta potentially finding out later. All that mattered now was the feel of his hand, slipping down your body and below the water for round two.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[guiltyasdave]

takes one to know one

another extra from the dress series universe, but can be read as a stand-alone!

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: ~3.3k

summary: “Not a sound,” a deep voice snarls into your ear. A familiar voice. You turn your head ever so slightly to make out his face over your shoulder, your wide gaze meeting his, the brown eyes that you know so well almost black as he drinks you in. You whimper against his palm and he smirks.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (18+ only!), consensual non-consent (it’s not explicitly mentioned but they have a safeword), Dave breaks into reader’s place and chases her, dom/sub dynamics, dom!Dave, sub!reader, degradation kink, knife play, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v (reader is on birth control), rough sex, slapping, spitting, choking, established relationship, hints of fluff because i can’t help myself, able-bodied reader, Dave pulls her hair, as always: let me know if i missed anything please <3

i want to make it very clear that cnc has been discussed between the both of them before and that reader is consenting throughout the entire scene that i’ve written here. still, check the tags and if this kind of content upsets you, please don’t read it 🤍

a/n: I’m still struggling with the plot for the main series, but I was horny aaaaand that’s really all I can say for myself. Because I know of several people who have written or want to write about some variation of the ✨knife riding✨, let’s not open up some kind of plagiarism discourse about this, please <3 I got my inspiration from this post and I know others have too, and honestly, I’d read a thousand fics about that shit because it’s fucking hot, so to anyone who wants to write it: PLEASE DO IT

dividers by @/saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here!

You’re sat on your couch, headphones over your ears, typing away on your laptop when a large hand wraps over your mouth, trapping the surprised scream that’s fighting its way up your throat. The headphones are roughly pulled away as you’re frozen in shock, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Not a sound,” a deep voice snarls into your ear. A familiar voice. You turn your head ever so slightly to make out his face over your shoulder, your wide gaze meeting his, the brown eyes that you know so well almost black as he drinks you in. You whimper against his palm and he smirks.

You hadn’t expected him for another few days and you sure as hell hadn’t expected this, but a twisted sensation of anxious excitement is thrumming through your veins.

Your eyes flit over his figure, taking in his dark clothes, more casual than you’re used to and a black cap that you’ve never seen on him before that accentuates his hard jawline and his dark eyes. A buzzing desire shoots through you before you can stop it. He quirks an eyebrow, seemingly amused by the reactions replaying on your face.

You take another breath, your brain running a mile a minute, clocking his hold on you that’s strong but not as strong as it could be and the door in your back that leads out of your apartment. Before you can overthink it, you twist out of his grasp, driving your elbow into his side sharply. His surprised and slightly pained intake of breath barely registers with you as you bolt for the door, your bare feet hitting your hardwood floor. You throw the door open and fly down the stairs as quick as your feet carry you, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

You’ve never played the scenario like this before, but the thought of him chasing after you, his dark figure hunting you down, and the things that he might do to you once he’s caught you, have you breathless with excitement.

You step out onto your street, which is thankfully almost empty in the early evening hours, and take off to one side without thinking. You don’t dare to turn around to check if you’re being followed before you dart into a small alley between two townhouses and press yourself against the wall, praying that he didn’t see and will pass you without noticing.

Your breath is coming in short pants and your gaze is glued to the street while you’re staying hidden in the shadows, determined not to miss him when he -hopefully- passes your hiding spot.

It feels like several minutes tick by, and while you can’t really be sure in your current nervous state, you start feeling anxious. You begin to creep towards the opening between the houses when a hand covers your face for the second time this night, the other hand wrapping around your wrist in an iron grip.

“Boo,” Dave whispers into your ear from behind you, making you jump, his body crowding you in as he spins you around to face him.

“Thought you could run away from me?” he smirks, his hand moving away from your mouth to possessively wrap around your neck. “Let’s get you back home, doll.”

He keeps a tight hold on your slightly trembling body, much tighter than before, and the adrenaline is slowly being replaced by more nervous excitement as he leads you back to your place, up the stairs until you’re standing in front of the door. He pulls the keys out and opens up, shoving you inside before he slams the door shut behind the both of you.

He holds your weary gaze while he locks the door, then he’s on you, pushing you against the wall, his hands clawing at your body, sliding under your shirt and tearing at the waistband of your leggings.

“P-please,” you whimper, pushing weakly at his hands.

“No,” he growls, capturing both of your wrists and holding them above your head while he glares down at you.

“You thought that was funny, huh?” He motions with his head towards the door, his voice an angry snarl. “Thought you were smart, that you could trick me?”

“N-no, please, I-” You shake your head, your voice thick with tears that are brimming in your eyes. He gathers both of your wrists in one hand, the other hand roughly slapping your cheek and causing your head to fly to the side.

“Shut up,” he spits, “I don’t want to hear another word from you, is that clear?”

Traces of real fear are coursing through your veins, but this is exactly how you wanted it to be, exactly how you had asked to be treated. Despite the fear, you feel wetness gathering between your thighs, and desire blooming in your whole body.

“Please,” you try again, not sure what you’re even begging for, just playing into the feeling of being completely at his mercy that you enjoy so much.

His hand hits your cheek again, twice in quick succession this time, and a whimpering moan escapes your mouth. “Not another word,” Dave repeats, his cold eyes boring into yours. He reaches for his belt and raises his hand a moment later, holding a knife that looks concerningly big, especially with how close it is to your face. He presses the blade against your throat and you freeze, your heartbeat loud in your ears and your eyes wide, your entire focus on him.

“Not another word, or you’ll regret it. Is that clear?” he asks again, his voice low and drenched in coldness. You manage the tiniest nod, scared to move against the blade that you can still feel on the delicate skin beneath your jaw.

“Good,” he grins, slotting his knee between your thighs and it takes everything in you not to grind down onto him. He removes the knife from your throat and presses his mouth onto your skin instead, his hands sliding under your shirt and groping at your tits while he sucks and bites on your neck with a roughness that is surely going to leave your skin sore for days. He kneads your breasts and pinches your nipples, sending jolts of equally pain and pleasure through your body. Your head is leaning back against the wall, your eyes pinched shut and high pitched whimpers falling from your lips.

He stops abruptly and gathers your face in his hand, squeezing your cheeks between his thumb and his fingers. “Stop complaining,” he snarls, “you think I can’t feel the way you’re soaking my pants right here?” His other hand cups your mound over your leggings, fingers digging into the drenched fabric and you can’t stop your moan, nor the way your hips buck to chase his touch when he pulls it away again.

“Desperate little slut, so fucking easy, just waiting around for someone to come and fuck you, weren’t you?” You try shaking your head and he tightens his hold on your face. “Don’t lie, sweetheart,” he says, his voice a cold whisper, “you love being treated like this. Love being put in your place. I think you should thank me.”

You give another small shake of your head and he lets go of your face to wrap his hand around your throat instead. His hold there tightens slowly and your eyes grow wider as he arches an eyebrow at you. You start feeling dizzy and your hand flies to his wrist, tugging desperately, but he just chuckles, squeezing your throat tighter. Desire burns between your legs as you’re gasping for breath, finally giving up on the defiance, like you both knew you would.

“Thank you,” you force out, almost choking on the words, and Dave grins triumphantly, loosening his grip on your throat.

“See,” he coos, leaning closer until you can feel his breath on your face, “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

He grabs your neck again and maneuvers you into your bedroom, where he orders you to strip, to show me what I came here for, doll, while he leans against your doorframe, watching your trembling form with a smirk in his face. You do as he says, pulling your shirt over your head and your leggings down your legs until you’re standing in front of him in nothing but your panties.

His eyes flit over your body, lingering on your breasts with an expression of hunger on his face, until they stop at your underwear. “Those too. Unless you’d rather have me cut them off?” The knife is back in his hand and he’s twirling it mindlessly. Your gaze follows the motion for a second, mesmerized by the casual ease with which he’s handling the weapon, until you remember his threat and hastily strip out of the panties, leaving yourself completely bare while he’s still fully dressed.

He stalks towards you, crowding you in and his fingers wander between your legs, swirling through the wetness at your entrance and making you gasp when he flicks your clit. “I knew it,” he grins smugly, “you’re so fucking wet for me. Like it or not, sweetheart, you love being treated like this. Best to just accept it.” He leans in to bite at your neck again, still playing with your clit while his other hand splays over your ass, causing you to flinch when the knife’s blade makes contact with your skin there. You’re helplessly turned on, so many sensations all over your body that you can barely process and you wrap your arms around his neck without thinking about it, just wanting him to give you more, to make you feel good the way you know he can.

“Good girl, there she is,” he whispers into your ear. Then he pulls back, stepping around you and throwing your naked body down onto the bed, looming over you, the knife still clutched in his hand. He straddles your thighs, smirks at you and pecks your lips, then he pulls back and drives the knife into the mattress beside you in one fluid motion, tearing through the material until only the handle is visible, sticking out of your bed.

A small scream had escaped your throat at the sudden motion and another slap lands on your face. “There,” he grins, the amusement clear on his face. “You so desperately want to have your cunt filled - use this.” Your stare flickers between him and the knife a couple of times, understanding slowly growing inside your mind.

“Y-you want me to ride? …T-this?”

Dave pets your cheek almost affectionately, then nods towards the handle. “Exactly. And you better get on with it, you don’t want to test my patience, do you?” You gulp and shake your head, wearily eyeing the intimidatingly large piece of black material that’s sticking out of your mattress. Dave clicks his tongue impatiently and you scramble to your knees, positioning yourself until you’re hovering over the knife.

Your insides are burning with the humiliation that he’s putting you through, but there’s also a twisted sense of excitement bubbling inside of you, knowing that no one but him would push you like this, which is why no one like him makes you feel like this. Your slick is dripping down your legs and you know that he can see it, with the way he’s watching you closely as you’re still hovering, anxiously biting your lip.

You look up at his face and despite the cold and cruel mask that he’s been wearing all evening, you can still see the fire in his eyes, making you feel warm, telling you that ultimately, despite everything, you’re safe with him and he wants you to enjoy yourself, will push you to enjoy yourself if necessary. He doesn’t say it, doesn’t take you out of the scene, but his voice is still clear in your head, speaking words that you’ve heard a hundred times. For me, sweetheart. I know you can.

You take a deep breath, your brows furrowing in concentration, and start sinking down. It’s an awkward angle at first and you need to adjust your position, but then the knife’s handle is pressing against your entrance. You gaze up at Dave again, whose eyes are trained on your pussy, watching eagerly as you sink down further. It feels strange, not unlike a toy, you think, but the shape isn’t exactly right and with a toy you wouldn’t be worried about cutting yourself with a wrong move. Your walls stretch around the foreign item and you gasp at the sensation, the feeling of finally being filled up giving you the sweet pleasure that you had been craving.

You begin moving your hips over the handle without further instruction from Dave, sliding up and down in careful motions, still aware of the sharp blade that’s currently buried in your bed, but sparks of pleasure are traveling up your spine nonetheless.

Dave reaches out to tweak your nipples again and you arch your back towards his touch, causing him to laugh. “That’s right, slut, fuck yourself on my knife. You’d do anything as long as that greedy pussy gets filled up, wouldn’t you?” You nod mindlessly, chasing your pleasure, the whole situation sending your arousal into overdrive.

Standing beside you, Dave finally pulls his dark sweater over his head, then opens his belt buckle. You eagerly drink in the sight of him, his broad chest and shoulders, his strong arms and his softer stomach, the smatter of dark hair disappearing beneath his waistband.

“Please,” you whisper, once again not certain what you’re even asking for, but you want more, more of him.

“Open your mouth,” Dave demands, leaning down to your level when you obey eagerly. He spits into your mouth, his saliva pooling on your tongue, the degrading but weirdly intimate motion making you moan desperately. “Keep it open,” he mutters as he pushes down his pants and underwear in one motion, your eyes flying to his cock before you can help yourself. He glides his hand along his length slowly, watching you while you’re still riding his knife, your combined saliva pooling in your open mouth and the desperate longing clear on your face.

He steps closer and taps the head of his cock on your tongue, eliciting another moan from you when you feel the familiar weight. “Yeah, need all your holes stuffed, one just isn’t enough, huh?” He doesn’t wait for an answer and thrusts into your mouth, holding your head steady as he presses his cock into your mouth until he’s nudging at your throat. You try your hardest not to gag and shudder in his grasp, tears spilling from your eyes and mixing with the spit that’s drooling out of your mouth.

He pulls back a little, letting you suck on him instead while you try to keep up your rhythm on the knife’s handle. “So good,” he groans, his hand curled in your hair, “taking me so fucking good.” He starts fucking your mouth again in quick thrusts and tweaks your nipples until you moan around him, the vibration causing his grip in your hair to tighten. “Think you can come like this?” he pants, “does riding my fucking knife while I’m fucking your throat turn you on that much?”

You nod as best as you can, pleadingly looking up at him. “Dirty fucking slut,” he snarls, landing another slap on your cheek that has you clenching almost painfully around the knife. “Go on then, touch yourself.” Your hand flies to your clit at his words, rubbing at the tight bundle of nerves and shuddering at the pleasure that’s thrumming through your veins. You come almost embarrassingly quick, the different forms of stimulation flooding your senses until you’re writhing on your knees, moaning around the cock in your throat as waves of pleasure roll through your body.

You faintly register Dave getting on the bed behind you and his hands on your shoulders. He pulls you off of the handle roughly and you fall back against his chest, still on your knees, barely keeping yourself upright. “Good fucking girl,” he coos into your ear as he pulls you into his body, his large hands pressing into your flesh. “You’re a quick learner. No need to get hurt when you’re obedient like this, see?” Then he pushes your head back down until you’re at eye level with the handle, still drenched in the wetness that your pussy has left behind. “Open up,” his cold voice demands from above you, underlining the order with a sharp slap to your ass when you don’t react quick enough. “Clean up your mess, make it all nice and shiny while I fuck this dirty little cunt.”

You feel a new wave of wetness between your legs at his words and obediently close your lips around the tip of the handle, moaning at the taste of yourself. “Just like that,” you hear Dave from behind you before his hand is in your hair again, pushing you down further. His other hand’s fingers are digging into your hip as he’s lining himself up and thrusting into you in one rough motion. Your scream at the sudden stretch gets muffled in your mouth and you hear his faint chuckle before he starts moving, setting a brutal pace right from the beginning that has you writhing, your hips stuttering with the force of his thrusts.

“That’s it, good girl, take it just like that,” Dave pants, his voice wrecked, “good fucking girl.” Getting praised while being in this degrading situation has your head spinning. You hear the wet squelch every time his cock presses inside of you, the smack of his flesh against his, the touch of his hands feeling so rough but so right on your body.

Dave is groaning behind you, sliding into you in hard thrusts that make your eyes roll back into your head and moving against your g-spot again and again. You feel yourself tightening up around him, more wetness seeping out of you until you can’t take it anymore. You tip over the edge, your whole body tensing up, shudders running through you as stars explode across your vision and your pussy clenches around his cock rhythmically.

You hear him swear behind you, his hips stilling and his hands pulling your body back against his chest, his cock pulsing deep inside of you and painting your walls with his release.

“So fucking good,” he murmurs and presses a gentle kiss against the soft skin under your ear. You nod, your mind still dazed but a tired smile growing on your face.

He gently pulls out of you and moves your body up the bed until your head is resting on the pillows. He cleans you up, peppering your entire face with kisses, muttering praises against your skin, replacing his demanding hands with soft, featherlight touches.

You watch with wide eyes as he carefully pulls the knife back out of your now ruined mattress and puts it down on your nightstand. The handle is still glistening with the remnants of your spit. Dave catches your eye and grins in that cocky way of his that almost makes you want him between your legs again immediately.

“Don’t worry. I’ll buy you a new one.” You smirk and stretch your arms out towards him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him down into a kiss, his lips softly moving against yours, the dominating persona all but blown away.

“You better,” you murmur against his mouth and his responding chuckle makes you smile.

if you liked this fic, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment, you’d really make me suuuuper happy! 🤍

[lyculuscaelus]

Just a gentle reminder that EPIC the Musical is a musical. It’s not a movie script, not a play adaptation, but a musical itself. Which means, to talk about it with anything less is inorganic, is missing an important piece of the story itself. Because it’s not just the lyrics that display the scene—music tells its own story too.

The way the soundscape for each saga (and sometimes different songs themselves) is so unique that it creates the atmosphere for this certain event almost immediately, the experience of which you cannot go through merely by reading the script. With the Cyclops Saga we have a dark and edgy theme, with the Circe Saga we have a more tropical (mostly due to the drums) and at the same time elegant one (due to the strings), with the Underworld Saga we have this very gloomy theme which is straight up Underworld feels…this is very common for music, but it’s just something you won’t get from the script.

The way the delivery of so many lines is so good that you can feel the emotions so vividly—something lyrics alone can’t display. (Which is also the reason why there’re so many lamenting paragraphs in tragic plays and why there’re pauses between spoken lines in writings where writers describe the expression and movement of characters.) The way you can hear the anguish and desperation in the delivery of so many lines from Mutiny, the way you can feel the emotional struggle of Odysseus at the end of Thunder Bringer in the way Jay sings…there’re so many moments where you just feel the raw emotions coming from those lines that you can’t experience it by reading the lyrics and interpreting with wild guesses.

The way the reoccurring motifs and riffs tell so many things that lyrics won’t is already well-known. Danger is nearby motif already gives you the alert of what is to come; storm motif depicts a harsh encounter on sea that it captures that moment so well; that specific motif from those three songs (the beginning of the second verse of The Horse and the Infant, the first and second verse of Survive, the beginning of the second half of Mutiny) is foretelling the turning point of events (and also asking someone to kill the other being)…and then we have characters’ own motifs. Odysseus’s cunning motif shows the moment where he plots the course of action; Athena’s Warrior of the Mind motif already indicates her appearance and more; Polites’s Open Arms motif just destroys your emotions cuz why not; Eurylochus’s Luck Runs Out motif shows the development of the dynamics between him and his Captain…there’re so many to rant about that I just can’t put them all in this one post. As for the riffs, the most famous one is of course the way Athena and Odysseus and Telemachus sing “miiiiind”/“fiiiiiine”/etc. as Jay has already yapped about in his video, which just shows the dynamics between these three characters so perfectly. Hey look, another thing which the script won’t tell you.

And then we have these characters’ own instruments. I don’t even think I’ll need to elaborate on this one. Most of you have known that already and understood how genius this idea is even though it’s not Jay who came up with it. This is totally something you can only experience in the music itself, but meanwhile it says a lot about the scene already. As in Done For where Odysseus’s electric guitar continues playing under Circe’s lines which indicates he has taken hold of the situation already (even though temporarily). It might be a minor thing, but still it’s very well-thought, and sometimes even foreshadowing (like how Poseidon’s trumpets have already shown up in Storm).

…

There’re so many things to rant about this musical that a single post is far from enough to discuss them all. Here I’m only pointing out that EPIC is an organic combination of lyrics and music (and action when it comes to stage production which I believe it will eventually) that it’s impossible to treat them separately while still getting the whole story right. Once again, the piece you’re talking about is not a stage play—it’s a musical that is epic.

[that-ari-blogger]

Complex Motivations (You Didn't Know)

Hazbin Hotel is about redemption, and a large part of that is the complexity of motivation. Sinners have unique reasons for what got them into hell, and that intricacy is explored in great detail with the main cast, but also everyone around them.

This is actually a mercy extended to the villains. Because contrary to popular belief, having a reason for doing what your doing doesn’t make you right. The Vees, for example, are characterised entirely by their dynamic with each other, and understanding their motivation means understanding just how cruel of a person Valentino is, for example. It doesn’t justify his actions, it explains them, and makes him a more complex character than “he does bad things because he is bad”, a mentality that the show criticises at every opportunity it gets.

Speaking of which, that reductive worldview is exemplified by the folks up in heaven. Specifically, by Lute, Adam, and Sera, and You Didn’t Know exists to show them on a sliding scale of villainy, and how their place on it doesn’t matter.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (Hazbin Hotel)

CONTENT WARNING: (Language)

“But she was right”

The first words in any story give context to what is to come. They set up the plot, provide a question or mystery, and establish pacing. Songs in musicals are parts of the story told in microcosm, and so they apply these rules. In this case, it is important to understand that each of these people has been proven wrong.

Their worldview is measurably false, and the question is, what do they do now?

This isn’t a presentation of ideas, this isn’t a philosophical debate, this is an exploration of character in the face of challenge, and how it exposes a person's true motivation.

Starting with Lute, because she is, in my eyes, the simplest. She believes everything that she is saying with no one hundred percent certainty, and it’s almost refreshing in contrast with everyone else.

Adam and Sera are both fickle in morality, but Lute is rock solid. She is bigoted and evil, and she is owning it. She is, for lack of a better term, a paragon.

“What are we even talking about?

Some crack whore who fucked up already?

He blew his shot like the cocks in his mouth.

This discussion is senseless and petty!”

Why are we having this conversation? Angel Dust is a sinner, therefore incapable of making any points. Any evidence presented is invalid because he’s the one presenting it.

Redemption can’t be proven because redemption doesn’t exist.

It’s a flat, mindless understanding of the world that a lot of people carry, more than you think.

Dutch angle. These two make the scene unsafe. Standard filmmaking but worth pointing out.

This is called Doxastic Anxiety, according to the philosopher, Jenifer Foster. I recommend her dissertation, as well as the video by Philosophy Tube (@theabigailthorn), which discusses it in the context of deliberate ignorance, amongst other things.

Doxastic Anxiety is an aversion to forming new beliefs. In this case, Lute doesn’t want to believe that redemption is possible, so she, quite efficiently, doesn’t believe.

This isn’t an argument or a conversation, this is one side presenting evidence, and immediately getting shot down with “shut up, I’m right.” You can’t change the mind of someone who refuses to open it in the first place.

This is matched by the music itself. I’ve talked at length about Adam and Lute’s obsession with rock music and what I think about that, but there’s a gaping hole in Lute’s argument here.

The drums are doing something interesting, and I will come back to them later, but the guitar is remarkably restrained, which isn’t what you would associate with rock at all.

There's some colour symbolism here that I love. Traditionally, there is a correlation between good and evil, light and dark, white and black. Those three categories align and while there are implications there, it is storytelling standard. Except here, in this scene, the brightest part of the shot is the window into hell, and because of the shadows rendering lute in grayscale, the closest things in the scene to pure white are Angel Dust, and Charlie's hair. The filmmakers are messing with morality, so naturally, they can't resist a chance to mess with the imagery thereof. Also interesting here, the shadows are of the Angels own making because it is their architecture. They aren't just made to look bad by contrast, it's their own actions that lead to this symbolism.

Music is emotion, that’s why character playlists exist. Songs convey themes through vibes, and rock music is about big, unrestrained emotions. Rock music is fundamentally wild.

Consider Bullet With Butterfly Wings, by the Smashing Pumpkins. The song is about anger at an inability to claim freedom, and so the guitar evokes the pacing of a caged animal during the verses, then comes out swinging in the chorus only to, for lack of a better term, fumble it. The resolution at the end of each musical phrase is clumsy, like falling back to square one. The final chorus, notably, doesn’t do this, and is much more comfortable, evoking a feeling of catharsis that contrasts with the lyrics of the chorus.

“Despite all my rage,

I am still just a rat in a cage.”

Powerlessness. The character is trying to claim freedom and has transcended their anger, but it hasn’t worked. The finale is desperate, and the music thrashes against its bars, trying to break either them, or itself, all while repeatedly screaming the words:

“And I still believe that I cannot be saved.”

Maybe the bars are more than just physical. Maybe there is a psychological element to this kind of oppression.

Even Sweet Child O’ Mine, by Guns and Roses (they’re a small, up and coming band. But I think you should check them out. There’s promise there) which is calm and reminiscent for most of its runtime, is built on being dynamic. The iconic riff famously bounces between highs and lows to mimic the highs and lows of a life lived.

It’s messy in the way that memories are messy, and the solos are wild and meant to be experienced more than just listened to. They chomp at the bit during the lull at “where do we go now”, before climbing back into soaring expressions of glee and, for lack of a better term, raw power. It’s a very different emotion to Bullet With Butterfly Wings, and you don’t need the lyrics to understand that.

The point I am making is that rock music is intrinsically expressionistic and unchained, and when Lute sings, her portion of the song is anything but. Lute is angry, and appropriating imagery that is not hers to use to justify that anger. But what is the anger at? Being proven wrong.

Case and point, her guitar is simple and even. It rises, then stops, then repeats, then plays a nice little melody at the top, before resorting to power chords. She has tried to form a point, but has been unable to, and instead of examining that, has resorted to anger and displays of force.

There is something in that "stick it to the man" thing. People in power almost seem to fetishise rebellion, but when it actually happens, they get all upset. Adam likes to appear as the underdog, and I think he likes to feel like the underdog, but he isn't. He's the one the underdogs are fighting.

Moving on to Adam, who doesn’t believe anything he is saying. He is doing genocide for entertainment, and he doesn’t care about justifying it. There is nothing behind this man, he gets what he wants because he wants it. He is a man child.

He has also already had his views explained in detail, so this song gets to shine as a character beat for him, because of the aforementioned framing device. What do you do when you are proven wrong? Do you change? Do you shout down what the person is saying like Lute? Or do you get petty and start being an arse because you can?

This is where we see Adam’s vindictive side, and it sure is a coincidence that the guy who champions retributive justice has a habit of taking what he views as revenge and multiplying it tenfold. That’s probably not important.

Anyway, this is used to bring up Vaggie’s deceit, but it also exposes something interesting about Adam’s villainy. It’s innately self-sabotaging.

Adam could have kept his gob shut and this would have gone off without a hitch, but he didn’t. His villainy is based in retribution, and so he had to dish it out when he was slighted, even if it undermines his greater scheme.

Which, if I may get a bit soap boxy, is how villains work in the real world.

I get frustrated with the view that kindness is hard and that being awful is easy because it isn’t. Don’t let people tell you the world is naturally terrible, because if you believe them and expect the worst, then you don’t call people out on their nonsense. “Oh, the world is bad, it was the easiest choice to do this awful thing.” No! It took a choice to cause suffering, someone made that decision.

Evil is difficult and self sabotaging and will wreck you for doing it to the point where it stops being worth it. Truly evil people are those that make the decision to do what they are doing because they have weighed up the consequences and decided that they don’t care.

On a day-to-day level, kindness is easy. It costs you nothing. Don’t use the mundanity of misery as an excuse for your own shit behavior, and call people out on theirs because they are actively making the world worse, not prolonging the status quo.

But on a grander scale, this is where Adam comes in. I would argue that it would be easier for Adam to not do a genocide. Like, it would be easier to just sit at home, drink soft drink, be a tosspot. He wouldn’t be a nice guy, but it would be an improvement.

But to do what he is doing right now, he had to come up with the idea, something that probably took him a while. Then he had to persuade Lute and the other executioners, which probably took less time. Then he had to run it by Sera, and then he had to amass an army in secret and keep that same secret of genocide from an entire population.

But he did. He went above and beyond so that he could kill people for sport.

Adam actively made the world worse, and crucially, that directly led to his death later on in the series. He gave people motivation to want him dead.

I mentioned at the start of this post that the sliding scale of villainy doesn’t matter, and that brings me to Sera.

Sera isn’t evil. She doesn’t directly cause bad things. But that “directly” is doing a lot of heavy lifting, because Sera is an enabler. She doesn’t have a moral compass at all. She doesn’t stand for anything, so she lets everything happen.

She doesn’t do the genocide, she doesn’t want to be a part of it, and she thinks that makes her a saint. But then again, she had the power to stop it, and the choice to do nothing is still a choice.

General lump of ice for anyone who wants it. If you ever find yourself smiling like a maniac with literal hellfire reflected in your eyes, maybe reconsider your life a bit.

Sera could have said “no” and been done with it. But instead, she signed herself up for a lifetime of subterfuge because it seemed easier at the time. Theoretically, Sera isn’t as bad as the others, but in practicality, oh yes she is.

Sera’s lack of morality is actually what inspired me to analyse this entire musical, because her part in this song is so crucial to my understanding of the musical as a whole and I haven’t seen anybody else’s reading factor this in at all.

“I thought cause I’m older,

it’s my load to shoulder.”

“No”

“You have to listen,

it was such a hard decision

I wanted to save you

the anguish it takes to

Do what was required…”

Sera doesn’t defend the genocide; she defends her decision to lie. Even when called out on it, it doesn’t occur to her that the murder of civilians is what people are upset about.

There are two possible readings here, the first being deflection and the second being indifference.

Deflection is simple. She gets called out for murder and she apologises for lying. That’s not remotely the point, but if you can get someone tangled up in an argument that they didn’t sign up for, you can twist their words into something they didn’t mean.

Anger is a volatile emotion, but it can be lead astray. Deceit is not an easy thing to justify, but it’s a lot less difficult than systematic oppression, so Sera might be steering the conversation to something where she is on slightly less of a rough footing.

The other reading is indifference. Sera genuinely doesn’t care about morality, and so she is trying to keep her public face. She is the leader of… is Heaven a country? Is it a city? What is Heaven? Anyway, Sera is in a leadership position, and so she has made the decision to maintain her image first and foremost.

She spins the genocide as something that was required and starts defending the lie, because that’s what she thinks is most important. To her, the genocide was required, but to that I ask: for what?

Like, what is the end goal here?

Adam has presented the idea that the genocide makes him feel good. Lute is of the opinion that the sinners deserved it. But Sera says “required.” For what?

Is she required to let Adam do what he wants? Is she trying to find a middle ground between “no genocide” and “yes genocide” and landing on “some genocide”?

Alternatively, does Sera think it is required to keep the population of Hell down, so they don’t rise up? Does she think this is needed for her own security? Is it for control? Because, if that’s the case, I think she is talking bollocks.

You don’t need to murder someone to not feel threatened by them, and there are better ways of coexistence than control.

Sera returns to what I said earlier about villainy being difficult. She didn’t need to go along with the genocide. It wasn’t required. But she chose to, and that makes her stand alongside Adam and Lute.

Before I finish up, let’s talk about the drums.

The song is dense, and has a lot of moving parts, so as a storytelling technique, the drums are really impressive. Not only to they separate the sections and make the story easier to digest, adding to the vibes of each part while keeping the momentum going, but they also join the sections with fills to ease the transitions between disparate parts of the story.

The song starts out with no percussion as Emily pleads with the court and specifically with Sera. Then Charlie brings some backbone to the conversation with the concept of fairness, and we get a steady, repeated beat, like boxers circling each other.

We get a fill into the marching beat that backs up Lute’s solo, before a chorus from a rock song follows Adam’s input in the conversation. So far, so good.

Then Adam ruins everything, and the song abruptly cuts back to Emily, who suddenly has percussion accompanying her voice. Although, it is off kilter and unsteady, unsure if it should be here or not. It’s uneasy as Emily tries to work out what is happening and how to feel. Something is wrong, and her music is evolving to keep up.

Sera’s section messes with this in a way I love. Starting off mimicking Emily’s exactly with the unsteady beat as if to say “I’m with you.” Although it adds some bass drum, specifically the rhythm played during Adam and Lute’s chorus.

Then, as she says the line about doing what was required, Emily’s rhythm cuts out entirely to show the falseness of this offer. Sera and Adam are entirely aligned here.

Emily is back, and her rhythm is gaining more and more confidence as she gets more and more angry.

“Was talk of virtue just pretention?

Was I too naïve to expect you…”

We’re building to a final chorus, and we get a quiet fill before a surprisingly understated chorus.

“If Hell is forever than heaven must be a lie.”

The perfect world is built on suffering, which means it can’t be a perfect world. Everything else falls away, including the drums, into short punches that are just off beat enough to feel natural. This is just brutality. Messy, unrestrained, hammering. This is the point; this is the centerpiece of the musical.

Then the drums cut out entirely for the final moments to underscore the revelation, and the song wraps up.

Final Thoughts

I’m about to spoil the rest of the musical, so be warned.

I want Sera to be redeemed so much, and I actually think it might happen, here’s why.

First, I think it would be funny. I think Sir Pentious being in heaven would be an excuse to torment her into changing. Like, she gets so frustrated by the snake boy who’s voice she recognizes for some reason, and who proves her wrong so entirely, but whom she can’t escape from and whom she can’t bring herself to dislike.

Drag the angel, kicking and screaming, into being a better person. Commit to the theme, damn it.

But I do think there is a chance of this actually happening, and that is because of the expressions that Sera makes. When Emily snaps, the show makes a point of showing Sera’s response, and it is abject horror and sadness. There is no anger or spite there, it is just shock and terror.

A sinner couldn’t convince her, but she is willing to listen to Emily, and that is the expression of someone who’s entire world just came crashing down.

Maybe it’s the fear that Emily will fall like Lucifer, or maybe it’s the fear that she won’t. I cannot wait to find out.

Next week, however, is Out for Love, and I have thoughts about that song. So stick around if that interests you.

Previous – Next

[phantomdialogue]

˗ˏˋ. ݁₊ ✶ ˖ 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐥𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 - 𝟓.𝟐𝟓/𝟓 ☆ . ݁ ˖ˎˊ˗

premise: scarlett vandermeer is fighting to keep her life together as a junior at stanford still finding her footing after a detrimental diving injury her freshman year. lukas blomqvist is the picture of discipline and being the best at what he does. when they learn that they might be more similar than they think, tensions rise and an agreement is formed, one that may just change how easy it is to tread the waters of their busy lives.

couple(s): lukas blomqvist and scarlett vandermeer

tropes: sports romance, secret relationship, friends with benefits, slowburn (ish?), opposites attract, forced proximity, he falls first

content warnings: mentions of child abuse/abuse, power dynamics, open discussion of kink and BDSM

review below!

review:

okay ali hazelwood... i see you. this had me hooked from the very start. one could argue this is her best book yet and i would not fight them on it. i would actually agree. it just worked. every part of it meshed together like a fine tuned machine for me. from the end of the very first chapter, it became all i thought about and i just wanted to keep reading. it flowed beautifully and the pacing was spot on. there were no slow moments really. i've heard complaints that this book is "too horny" but truly i think it balances the smut and the plot and the characters so well and you never feel like you're being overloaded by one of them.

the only logical reason this is rated even 0.25 stars below love theoretically is that i have an undying love for jack smith turner BUT lukas blomqvist... wow. ali hazelwood knows how to do the he falls first trope better than most i have to admit and it works unbelievably well here. lukas is just easily top two ali hazelwood book boyfriends for me. he is such an amazingly flushed out character and i will never not love a refrigerator sized man who just is head over heels in love with the girl that's smarter than him. it's the dream really.

scarlett may also be my new favorite ali hazelwood fmc. she is just one that i connected to so deeply immediately on so many levels. while she does still have that little nagging classic ali hazelwood thing of being slightly annoying due to an insecurity, i think it feels more manageable here than some of her other books. you understand why she's the way she is and the events in her life that have led her to be this way. she has reasons for those insecurities and you watch her grow and become more sure of herself in some ways and it's really so wonderful in this book.

overall, this is likely my new favorite ali hazelwood book. she knocked it out of the park. her take on a sports romance while still throwing in her amazing stem charm just sold me completely. the cameos also were such a fun welcome. it just felt like her best as you were reading it as well. she had a clear voice for scarlett and lukas was perfect and the plot and pacing just felt so smooth. truly hats off to ali hazelwood for proving once again that refrigerator sized men do it better.

my ratings:

characters - 5 ☆ - change and grow, memorable, multilayered, original, strong relationships

plot - 5 ☆ - addictive, satisfying conclusion, steady pacing, well-structured

setting - 4.5 ☆ - realistic, fits the story

writing style - 5 ☆ - beautifully-written, easy to read, original, witty

favorite quotes (some spoilers here, of course, but minimal):

There are snippets of him here and there, though, like confetti stuck to my hair after a New Year’s Eve ball drop. I didn’t mean to take them home, but still get to examine them, and I’m glad for that.

I can be brave. I can be anything for noodles.

“Maybe the elephant’s just… blindfolded?” He nods slowly. “And tied up.” “And doing as it’s told.” He looks like he might find that more appealing. “What a good elephant.”

Being a good athlete, a good student, reaching for perfect—those were the building blocks of me. Now that I’m struggling with almost everything, do I still have a fully fleshed identity? Or am I just an assembly of meat pieces, to be sold separately on clearance?

He conspicuously left the door open, and he made sure I was aware that he could see me through the glass doors. Ah, the frazzling ordeal of being known.

“I do miss them, but when I’m with them, I sometimes contemplate violence.” “Isn’t that what being siblings is about?”

“I’m not soft.” “You are with me.” His eyes meet mine. A dark, unflinching look that sands layer upon layer off me. “Maybe I make you soft.”

“Sometimes, I feel like my life is split in two. There was the first part, where I was in control, and was able to make myself do what needed to be done, and then… now.”

“I’m afraid of the unpredictability of existing. I’m afraid of not being able to control the direction of my life. I’m afraid that no matter how much I plan, I won’t be able to avoid hurtful and sad things. But above all…” I take a deep breath and laugh softly, because what I’m about to say is ridiculous, even if it’s true. Even if it’s me. “Mostly, I’m afraid of attempting something and not being perfect at it.”

“I’m not that smart—” “Shut the fuck up, you brilliant, beautiful genius.”

That’s where it lives, my love for him. In the space between the things he could do, and what he chooses instead.

“Million? Hyperbole?” “Not this time.”

Sometimes, when she’s in deep sleep, a thoughtful little frown furls on her brow. Lukas cannot physically get out of bed until he has smoothed it over with his lips.

[paintedonmyteeth]

Looking for Roleplayers ᯓ ⁺₊ ♱ .ᐟ

Hello hello, name’s Dead (20, she/her) and I’m looking to get back into roleplaying and find some new rp partners interested in building plots and creating character dynamics and development! It’s been some time since I’ve gotten in to doing some lengthy or rping with plots and I may be a little rusty so please bear with me :)) With this in mind here’s some other things you need to know about me…

Status: Closed

݁ᛪ༙ — My writing switches between semi-literate to literate depending how motivated I am to write with or go along with the plotting, I usually try to write one thick chunk or maybe two paragraphs to avoid writing any one-liners. I will also try my best to mirror my writing to my partners.

݁ᛪ༙ — I have a life outside of tumblr and discord, so please bear with me with my slow responses! With this in mind, I’m more active between Mondays and Fridays as well as weekends. Not to mention timezones are also funky. You may @ me after 4-5 days if I happen to forget about the rp but please don’t spam me.

݁ᛪ༙ — I’m all for platonic plotting between characters as well as adding romance, when it comes to pairings I’m more comfortable writing MLM as nearly all of my OCs are male, (I am open into trying MLNB though!) since writing female characters aren’t really my strong suit. I am a-okay adding any dead-dove or NSFW elements in our rps (though I much prefer them to be side-plot things rather than the main topic that’s driving the story forward).

݁ᛪ༙ — I also rp in a few fandoms and can play a few canon characters. I’m on board for writing canon x canon ships, but I will NOT be doing any oc x canon pairings or double-ups.

And speaking of fandoms, here’s a list of them that I write for:

ִ ࣪𖤐 Percy Jackson (OCs only)

ִ ࣪𖤐 Little Nightmares

ִ ࣪𖤐 Outlast

ִ ࣪𖤐 Pirates of the Caribbean

ִ ࣪𖤐 Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children

ִ ࣪𖤐 Homicipher

ִ ࣪𖤐 Genshin Impact

ִ ࣪𖤐 Venom (Marvel movies)

ִ ࣪𖤐 Alien Stage

݁ᛪ༙ — Besides fandoms I also have a handful of fandomless ocs I’m more than open to use as well! I can’t remember nor do I have a lot of fandoms I used write for but I’m more than comfortable in using my ocs for rping and plotting things with them. If I happen to find other fandoms I enjoy I might add them to the list! On that note, plotting with ocs in fandomless rps is something I’m more interested with creating plots that are action/adventure, crime, or horror oriented roleplays. I’m MORE than open to plot any roleplays with AUs!

݁ᛪ༙ — Another important thing to add, ageless or minor accs under 18 DNI, I’m not comfortable with interacting with younger people! If you are requesting for any creepy/weird tropes or you’re being an asshole in general, I will block you and end the discussion from there.

݁ᛪ༙ — Lastly, if you disappear on me without a word for more than a month, I will assume you’re no longer interested in the roleplay and I will leave the DM from there.

If anyone’s interested in rping and building a plot with me feel free to drop your discord tag or interact with this post! :)

[warabidakihime]

Rules and Roses Chapter 3

★ characters: kibutsuji muzan x reader x akaza

★ plot summary: Kibutsuji Muzan has finally decided to expand his empire, and the way he intends to do so is by running for the highest political position. With you, his darling wife, at his side, he believes he can achieve and have everything the world has to offer. He is, after all, the Phoenix of Phario.

★ fic playlist: sometimes, same day, as time stops, wolf’s song (this is also the vision board for the fic). 

★ content warnings : implied violence and abuse, profanities, toxic relationships, smut. MINORS DNI.

comments are always welcome and greatly appreciated! hearing your thoughts motivates me to write more, so please leave a comment. have fun reading!

-

"Hey Akaza, good morning! Sorry to message you so early, but I need to let you know I'll be meeting with Ms. Rivera at her place today before lunch. Please have the car ready by 10:30 am. Thank you!"

Akaza, huh?

Akaza stared at your message, his eyes fixed on his phone screen, but his mind wandered. Minutes passed as thoughts raced through his head. Finally, with a deep sigh, he shook off his distractions, put down his phone, and began getting ready for the day.

One thing about you: you hated delays, whether caused by you or someone else.

There was a time when Akaza accidentally overslept, and you had an early doctor's appointment. Because he was late, you drove yourself and got annoyed at him for messing up your schedule. Eventually, you calmed down and reminded him that time is something you don’t like wasting.

Since then, Akaza has never missed an alarm and has always been punctual.

However, he was confused as to why you didn’t tell your husband about what happened that day. You're usually an open book and a chatterbox with your husband, so it came as a surprise Muzan wasn’t informed of his little oopsie. 

He didn’t ask you why, though. 

First, he didn’t want to push his luck, and second, he didn’t exactly want Muzan to find out. Muzan was known to be strict and blunt with everyone except you.

You have your rules, but Muzan has his demands.

Akaza knows this well since he was Muzan’s bodyguard before being assigned to you after your marriage. This change in his role was rather unexpected, considering your... dynamic.

As his mind wandered down this path, Akaza shook his head, his eyes closing in frustration.

“Don’t even think about going there,” he muttered to himself, knowing he didn’t have the patience to entertain such thoughts.

With another deep sigh, he continued getting ready. Once finished, he almost sprinted out of his room to start the car, ensuring everything was set for you to leave as soon as you were ready.

-

"Sign here, Ms. Rivera."

"Gladly."

Since it was a weekday, traffic in the capital city was manageable, and you arrived at your client's home right on time.

Muzan’s busy campaign schedule meant you often had to accompany him. If he wins the election, you’ll be the first lady, a role with its own important responsibilities.

Time flew by, and since your last meeting with Ms. Rivera a month ago, you were now down to the final run-through of her wedding plans for next month.

The only thing left was for your client to pay the remaining balance for your services.

After collecting the payment and discussing final details with Ms. Rivera, your meeting ended after nearly an hour. Akaza was there in the living room with you and the client, keeping himself busy with phone games,playing silently out of respect.

As he noticed the meeting wrapping up, he excused himself to prepare the car so you could leave promptly.

"Where to?" Akaza asked as he drove off.

"Hmm... let’s eat somewhere before going home. Are you craving something?" You looked at him, and he responded with a sheepish chuckle, "Don't worry about me, madam. You choose what you want."

"Honestly, I don’t know what I want to eat. I’m hungry but can’t decide what I’m in the mood for."

Akaza navigated the highway smoothly, one hand on the wheel, the other propped on the door with his chin resting on his palm. He hummed as he thought about where to eat.

"There's this burger joint I know. It’s a bit far, but their food is good and cheap," he suggested. His tone exuded excitement, and as you listened to him, you noticed the excited tone, which for some reason made you equally excited as well.

"Sure! That sounds great. I don’t have any other plans, so we can take our time," you replied just as eagerly.

Akaza looked over to you for a minute, catching the pretty smile plastered on your face. Without his permission, his heart skipped a beat, and warmth seeped through his veins, softening his usually stoic demeanor.

Today, with the sun shining brightly and the breeze feeling wonderful against your skin, Akaza allowed himself to let his guard down just a bit and let his inhibitions win for once and just this once.

"It's decided, then."

With a fond smile, he nodded at you before stepping on the gas, determined to get you to the burger joint he enthusiastically vouched for.

The place where the remnant of your past lingered—the place where your Pandora's box awaits.

-

"This is so good!" you exclaimed as you took your first bite of the burger you ordered.

Akaza merely chuckled while watching you eat, his eyes filled with fondness and a little bit of pride. He was clearly pleased that you liked his suggestion when the two of you were deciding what to eat for lunch.

Through the years of serving you as your bodyguard, he learned that you were rather picky with the foods you ete. You have sensory issues, so certain food textures and scents are not to your liking.

You also don't like eating foods you hadn't tried before when you were very hungry, because what if you didn't like them? It would ruin your appetite right there and then. But this time, you had hearts in your eyes after taking your first bite of the burger.

"See? I told you it's good and mad cheap too. A little bit greasy, but we'll live," Akaza said with a chuckle.

You nodded enthusiastically in response. "Yeah, but to be honest, for some reason, the taste is familiar to me."

You looked around the burger joint, scanning every nook and cranny as you tried to gather your thoughts. "It's my first time here, yet this place feels so familiar, and the taste of their food reminds me of something, but I just can't pinpoint what it is."

Still lost in your own little world as you enjoyed your meal, a spark twinkled in Akaza's eyes as he listened to you.

"Maybe you've been here before, but you can't remember. I mean, if my schedule were as hectic and loaded as yours, I'd also forget stuff every now and then."

You hummed as you took another hearty bite, your pupils dilating at how much you loved it, making your bodyguard chuckle fondly at you. He didn't say anything more, knowing you were in the process of gathering your thoughts.

"I guess so, but I figure if I liked their food here so much, I wouldn't be able to forget this place. You know me and my obsession with food, Akaza."

Yeah, I know.

How could I ever forget?

"Most of what you make me do is either order you food or buy you iced coffee. How could I forget?" he replied with a teasing smile.

You playfully swatted him on the head.

Akaza snickered, finding absolute pleasure in teasing you.

"What? It's true! Check our chatbox—it's full of your food orders."

Rolling your eyes, you shot back, "And who’s the one who enjoys eating half of those orders with me?"

Akaza grinned, leaning back in his chair. "Well, can you blame me? You tend to overorder, and most of the time you persuade me to eat the rest of it."

"Overorder? That's rich coming from the guy who always insists on extra fries," you retorted with a smirk.

"Hey, those fries are amazing, and you know it. And I'm not one to deny free food," Akaza said defensively and quite audaciously as he is having this conversation with you, his main source of income, but over the years of working for you and spending time with you, the two of you have grown close and a lot comfortable with each other's company.

"Yeah, yeah, just admit you can't resist good food either," you teased.

"Alright, alright," Akaza conceded, laughing. "You got me. But seriously, if I didn’t help you out, you’d probably be buried under a mountain of food by now."

You couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, maybe I do get a little carried away sometimes."

"A little?" Akaza raised an eyebrow, grinning.

"Remember that time you ordered enough sushi to feed an army? I had to go buy you medicine in the middle of the night because you got a bad stomach ache."

You rolled your eyes again, your cheeks a bit red due to a slight embarrassment, but you tried to cover it with a sheepish smile.

"It was a new place, and I wanted to try everything!"

"You certainly did," Akaza said, shaking his head. "But it’s all part of the job—keeping you happy and well-fed."

"And teasing me endlessly," you added.

"Of course," Akaza said while still wearing that damn teasing smile on his face. "It's also part of my KPIs."

You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head at his cheekiness. "Well, as long as you’re enjoying yourself."

Akaza leaned back, his expression softening. "I am. Besides, someone has to keep you grounded."

"Grounded, huh? More like keep me entertained," you retorted, smiling.

"That too," he admitted with a chuckle. "Ready to head back?"

You nodded, feeling satisfied both with the meal and the company. "Yeah, let’s go. Thanks for lunch, Akaza."

"Anytime, boss," he replied, standing up and offering you a hand.

With a shared smile, you both left the burger joint and headed back home.

-

Still on cloud nine from your spontaneous lunch out with Akaza, you entered the mansion, still chatting and laughing with one another. You didn't notice Muzan in the kitchen, helping himself to a glass of wine.

He had just come back from a busy day, which included attending business meetings at Obelisk Kibutsuji, participating in media interviews with his running mate Douma, and going to a fitting for an upcoming event you both would attend in about two months.

After such a hectic day, he rewarded himself with a drink to unwind.

At the sound of your melodious laugh chiming like bells in the hallway, his ears perked up, and he immediately looked up, his curiosity piqued. What could be the reason you were in such a good mood?

"Oh, hey, my love. You're home," you said lovingly as soon as you saw your husband in the kitchen.

"Yeah. The fitting ended a lot earlier, so I headed straight home," he responded with an equally loving smile.

Clearly elated to see him, you immediately sprinted with light steps towards Muzan, giving him the tightest bear hug and a smooch to match. Muzan happily reciprocated the kiss, making you giggle in between kisses.

Meanwhile, Akaza stood on one side of the room, waiting for you to either dismiss him or have him remain in his post should you have other tasks for him.

After a few more moments, you both pulled away and smiled at each other.

"How was your day, darling?" Muzan asked, still holding you in his embrace.

"It was great!" you replied.

"Oho? And may I know why?" Muzan asked again, his voice lacking the usual professional tone he used.

"My meeting with Ms. Rivera was successful, and we will be proceeding to the actual wedding preparations. And then, Akaza introduced me to this burger joint downtown, and it was so good! I need to take you there, my love. They have the best iced coffee too!"

"Oh, did he?" Muzan said, his scarlet eyes darting towards your bodyguard, who was currently wearing a polite smile as he regarded your husband with a nod and bow.

Muzan replicated his smile, although it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Turning back to you, Muzan said, "Well, when I'm not too busy or when we're in the area, let's eat there, hm?"

"It's a date," you giggled. Then you turned to Akaza and said, "You can go ahead and rest now, Akaza. Thank you so much for today."

"Yes, madam," he replied before bowing and retreating to his room at the far end of the mansion, beside Kokushibo and the maids' quarters.

Unbeknownst to you, Muzan was trailing your bodyguard's disappearing figure, and just as you were about to look up at him again, his undivided attention was back on you.

Giving your hips a good-hearted squeeze, he pointed to his half-empty wine glass and said, "Want a drink, darling?"

You nodded. "I'd love to."

The two of you walked back to the spacious kitchen. You sat on the countertop, your legs swinging merrily, as you watched your husband pour you a glass of red wine. After handing it to you, he walked over to the other side of the kitchen to look for something.

"How was your day, my love?" It was your turn to ask. Muzan smiled handsomely and replied in a relaxed manner, "Chaotic as always. To be quite honest, I think the fatigue is catching up to me."

You frowned at this. "It's because you're pushing yourself too hard. Why don't you take a day or two to rest?"

"Hmm... I might. I'll check my calendar, and if it's not too full, I will move those schedules to a later date," he replied while rummaging through a kitchen drawer.

"Want me to give you a massage later?"

Muzan finally returned to you after finding what he was looking for, a familiar smile now plastered on his face. He walked closer until your knees were against his torso, and both of his arms were securely placed on each of your sides, caging you in place.

"Just a massage? I think I'm going to need more than that, Y/N."

Already understanding what he was implying, you mirrored his smile, wrapped your arms around his neck, and invited him in between your legs. "What do you mean?"

Muzan chuckled seductively, his face only inches away from yours, the tip of his nose touching yours, his scarlet pupils mesmerizing you.

"I need you naked and moaning for me, darling. Can you do that?"

You chuckled just as seductively, already feeling aroused. You could only nod in response, much to your husband's delight.

"Hmm... it's decided then. But wait, before I get sidetracked, let's take our night supplements first."

You rolled your eyes at that. "Not you edging me before we even get started, Muzan."

Muzan let out a hearty chuckle, highly amused at your choice of words. "I'll make sure to repent later."

"You're forgiven," you replied with a chuckle, then took the pills your husband prepared for you. While you were preoccupied, a rather odd expression was plastered on Muzan's face, but it quickly reverted back to 'normal' once you're done.

"That's a new brand, by the way. Douma introduced it to me. He said it's way more effective than the one we're taking."

"Really? Hmm... I've not heard of this brand before. Is it imported?" you asked while gulping down a glass of water.

"Yeah, it's made in Italy."

You hummed in response, and in a split second, you found yourself being embraced by your husband again. In all honesty, he nearly gave you whiplash, but that's just one of Muzan's many quirks you fell in love with.

Then you felt him place a sensual kiss on your neck, immediately turning you into a puddle, even more so when you felt his teeth puncture your flesh. Afterwards, he dragged his kisses from your neck to your jaw, then finally to your lips.

"M-Muzan." You moaned as you felt his hands roam around your body, leaving chills in their wake.

"Already, darling? I'm just getting started." He didn't give you a chance to respond, as the moment you were about to, he glided his tongue between your plump lips and invited yours to a dance of tango.

The kiss left you so hazy that you didn't even notice Muzan had already discarded your pencil skirt, your undergarments dangling on your foot, and your blouse and bra fully undone by his skillful hands.

"I missed you so much, Y/N. It's been a while, huh?" Muzan asked after pulling away momentarily before diving down to one of your breasts, immediately nubbing on your nipples, making you gasp and moan out loud.

"Y-yes," you breathed out.

It was already well into the night, and usually the both of you were already in bed given that you were always busy with your respective work. But at this very moment, you'd never felt more alive and hungry for each other.

It really has been a while since you last had sex. Heck, it had also been a while since you last went on a proper date. So craving each other like rabbits in heat wouldn't surprise anyone, considering the two of you were borderline obsessed with one another.

"Ahhh," you gasped, your back arching as you felt your husband's tongue glide over your needy clit.

Muzan continued his magic in your nether region, quickly sending you over the edge. You had one hand clamped over your mouth, nervous that if you let any more lewd sounds escape, you would wake the maids and bodyguards.

"Let me hear you, darling," your husband hummed between your legs.

Unbeknownst to you, Muzan had his eyes wide open and focused on the entrance of the kitchen. Even in the dimly lit room, he could see someone's shadow.

Still concentrating his gaze there, he spoke again.

"Come on, Y/N. Let me hear you sing. Say my name, darling. Who's making you feel good?"

As if on cue, you reached climax; your eyes shot open and then closed shut again in sheer pleasure.

"Ah, fuc—Muzan!"

Muzan smirked as he watched the shadow slowly disappear.

"Good girl."

[sporesgalaxy]

I’ve thought about it some more and I want to rephrase: the specific thing about the way Dungeon Meshi handles gender and autism that makes me bonkers is the blunt way the author states the differences between Laios and Falin’s treatment by the world. If Falin had been the one to try and carve out a space for the both of them, she would have been dismissed at best. But Laios was the one to try that, and for the crime of being a big autistic man, he was beaten for it. Many- most, even- aspects of this world and the real world favor men, when a gender or presentation is favored. Misogyny is extremely present in so many of our lives. But it is naive to pretend that there are no downsides to being seen as a man, especially one of color, or one that’s not neurotypical, or any number of things. Falin faces unique struggles as an autistic woman, usually internal, and usually to do with the social pressures placed on her to be seen as nothing but agreeable. But Laios faces unique struggles as an autistic man, like getting the shit kicked out of him or punched in the face or having people plot to kill him.

I’m super not trying to say that either has it better. Facing conflict because you are incapable of not presenting as exactly the kind of person you are isn’t inherently worse or better than being unable to present at all, trapped within yourself. But the way it’s presented in Dungeon Meshi is fascinating to me.

Ok so first of all I want you to know I GET IT. I HAVE SEEN HOW BAD IT CAN SUCK FOR AUTISTIC MEN IN A LOUD AND OPEN AND PHYSICAL WAY and how NO ONE FUCKING DOES ANYTHING ABOUT IT because Guys Are Supposed To Be Tough and You Should Just Stop Acting Weird And Having Feelings and all that bullshit!!!!!!! I watched that happen to someone very close to me over the course of My Whole Childhood. It's fucking dismal and it makes me really happy to see a character like Laios where those struggles are front and center.

BUT! I also want to point out that your wording here, altho it is not your intention to belittle Falin's suffering, makes it seem like her/typical autistic women's suffering is wholly immaterial. Which is NOT true. It's not that Falin's emotional suffering is equal to Laios' physical suffering, it's that their autism/neurodivergence makes them both vulnerable to physical AND emotional abuse, but in different ways because of gendered social dynamics.

•••

(Quick aside: non-autistic men and women both experience physical as well as emotional abuse because of their percieved gender as well, btw. Yes, men get priveleges, but patriarchy harms them, too. You know what, this video discussing the strengths and weaknesses of The Barbie Movie actually explains it really really well. Anyways, back to the main point.)

Due to the different gendered social expectations placed on men and women, yes, men are more likely to escalate social conflict to physically fighting each other. But the same way that doesn't mean that there's NO emotionally abusive aspect to men's social punishment for being too different, the fact that women are expected to use emotionally abusive tactics to address social conflict does NOT mean that there is no physically abusive aspect to the ways that autistic women are mistreated.

The same way Laios' inability to hide his autistic traits puts him at risk for both getting the shit beaten out of him AND being lied to for purely social reasons, Falin's coping strategy of being agreeable puts her at risk for being shunned emotionally AND enduring physical harassment.

If Falin had tried to actively & forcefully carve out a place for herself and Laios in the world, dismissal is NOT the worst that could have happened to her. What Falin's childhood experience being subjected to folk rituals by her mother and rejection from the town REALLY shows us is that, if Falin was TOO unnacceptable to the people around her it would have become someone else's responsibility to "fix" or "cure" her. Her parents', or a doctor's, or a betrothed.

I'll try to find it later, but in one of the bonus comics where we learn more about the Touden sibs' relationships to their parents, one of the things we learn is that their mother tried to "treat" Falin's magical abilities using a variety of ineffective folk cures. Their mother felt pressured to do this by the townspeople's very negative response to Falin's magical abilities, which along with their father seeking advice from a Gnome, proves that the threat against Falin was not completely in Laios' head.

Falin says she saw this as quality time with her mother, but...I mean, girls with unhealthy relationships to their bodies often see childhood dieting and clothes shopping with their mothers as quality time, even if that "quality time" instilled in them a deep-seated belief that they should mistreat their bodies and view themselves as objects to be consumed. Just because Falin thinks of it as quality time now does NOT mean that there was no damage done.

In a world where her social and fiscal autonomy are already highly limited, Falin's physical autonomy is threatened by her neurodivergence, just in a more roundabout way than Laios' is.

[ocrpsearch]

🪽 hiya! i’m a (21+) writer searching for fellow writers (21+) who are primarily active on discord for oc x oc. i’m a dedicated novella writer and absolutely thrive when my partner shares the same passion, though i’m open to literate writers if we vibe well! i adore character-driven plots and have a deep love for immersive world-building.

i’m looking for mxf pairings, especially with an older man and younger woman dynamic. i want to do something where my muse ( nikolaj coster-waldau fc ) ends up falling for the daughter of his business rival ( very slow burn ). i prefer a 70:30 plot to smut ratio. i’m open to writing nsfw content, but i’d like the main focus to be on our characters and their development.

dead dove and other themes can be discussed beforehand. i’m almost always active and love creating playlists and pinterest boards for inspiration. i’m incredibly passionate about my characters and would be just as invested in yours! bring me your best pre-established muses or the ones you’ve been developing. like this, and i’ll get back to you ASAP! :)

interact and anon will reach out!

[jodiesjamiez]

I saw a debate between you and my friend about Grace. What I understood is that Grace is a saint girl to lead Tommy good side, and that's the reason she needed to be killed. It seems you want to believe SHE IS 100% GOOD GIRL WHO CANNOT ADJUST HERSELF TO BE IN SHELBY FAMILY.

Also, personally I thought you deny Grace is the woman Tommy truly loved refering to your post wrote about Greta Jurossi. Well, that was interesting. I don't deny Greta was the only first true love in Tommy's life. No one cannot hold the title except Greta.

I hope all of this article is my misunderstanding. Thank you.

Hi there,

I really enjoyed discussing this with your friend and thank you for sharing your thoughts.

I always appreciate hearing different perspectives, especially on a show as layered as Peaky Blinders. That said, I want to be honest and say that your message came across as quite accusatory and confrontational, even if that wasn’t your intent.

My intention in any of these discussions is never to argue about who's "right" or to attack anyone's interpretation. I enjoy exploring character dynamics and contradictions within the plot.

Now to my response,

I don’t think Grace is a good person—and I’m not sure where you interpreted that from my posts.

I don’t mean that as an insult, I actually find it compelling. She kills people. She lies. She enters Tommy’s life already operating in the same morally grey world. That’s why they connected so deeply in that Garrison scene—because they met in that same dark place. That whole “now you’ve seen me” scene… I personally didn’t see it as just romance, it was trauma bonding, mutual understanding that Tommy needed to really get closer to her (and forward the plot).

And look, she’s dead. I didn’t ever say she deserved it just that it happened and it clearly served Steven Knight’s larger purpose about grief, ambition, and the cost of power. My original point was never about rewriting that reality—it was about interpreting what it meant. She became symbolic in her death, and sure I said Tommy romanticizes her as perfect, but I don’t say that to erase who she actually was or how she operated when she was alive. He loved her anyway. We all know this.

…And on her not being able to adjust to the family: Polly would never have accepted her. Period. Grace lied to them, betrayed them, and put the whole family at risk. Polly’s judgment is final, and once you’re out, you’re out. Grace might’ve had Tommy’s heart, but she’d never truly have a place at that table. I feel like it would become a Micheal / Tommy conflict but Grace / Polly if she lived you know? Tommy relied on Polly’s judgment and opinions a lot. Grace would want to take that place of advisor as his wife.

I’m not going to reply on the point about Greta because I'm not sure what you mean. You might want to go back to the last paragraph of that post because that is what it was about. The timeline of Tommy’s tragedy. I made a post about Greta to explore how different types of love have shaped Tommy as I rarely see discussions about her as she plays a minor role but is still significant to Tommy’s journey. These characters all represent something different, and that’s what makes discussing them so compelling.

I really don’t like to argue but I love to share ideas so please conduct yourself respectfully. Ideas are not inherently ‘bad’ or ‘good’.

And just to clarify, your friend actually contacted me first, replying to a post I made about Lizzie and how I wished she and Tommy had communicated more. From there, we had a thoughtful exchange about Grace, the show's themes, and Tommy’s emotional arc. It was a good discussion and I really appreciate the way it was handled.

If anything was misunderstood, I’m more than happy to clarify. I just hope we can keep the conversation respectful and open to different points of view.

[foggylizzard]

Looking for Jayvik rp partners

I have a few availabilities this summer break (though I am looking for longterm roleplaying) and was making a call into the void to see if anyone was interested!

A few stipulations:

1. I am only really interested in playing Viktor, so I’d prefer to rp with those interested in playing Jayce.

2. You have to be 18+ (preferably above 20)

3. No unreasonable hatred harbored towards Mel. (No weird anti black tropes in the rp, no “other woman” plot lines that’s just not something I am willing to tolerate.)

4. I only write long form literary style. I try to write long detailed replies, and as such, it may take me a while to draft. My availability is fairly open during the summer months but as I return to school it may be more difficult to respond. I will communicate in advance if I am too busy.

5. Must have an interest in discussing and delving into world building/long term plot points! I’m looking to create a really complex world/characters.

Rp concepts/worlds I am the most interested in:

Medieval

Anything superhero inspired

Anything omegaverse (up for discussion about roles/dynamics!)

Pirates

Post canon/alternate reality/canon compliant (If there’s a specific time you’re interested in rping let me know!)

Anything with vampires or the supernatural (vampire/vampire, vampire/werewolf, vampire/human, vampire/hunter)

T4T (not really an au but more of a character trait! Just one of my faves for them since I headcanon them both as trans)

Anything high fantasy!

I’m looking for a slow burn rp overall but I’m open to other ideas as well. Just dm me if you’re interested and we can discuss further!

[crow-hoards-things]

The Bad Batch Series Finale

FULL DISCLOSURE: This is a vent post. I’m angry and hurt. After I get this out of my system I’ll be more open to discussing the positives of the episode.

Warnings: Ranting, Spoilers

Hooo boy. Okay. I am… less than satisfied?

Quick rundown since I haven’t posted much of anything Bad Batch related: Tech is my favorite Batch member, immediately followed by Crosshair. I’m also a HUGE Republic Commando Nerd (read all the books, played the game, despised Bad Batch as a whole initially because I felt the commandos were being unfairly ignored, can sing + translate Vode An, etc.) and Scorch was my favorite Delta. The Bad Batch grew on me shortly after Season 1 finished up, and I immediately latched onto Tech when I began watching. He’s the reason I watched the first two seasons. (Crosshair + delusions about Tech were the combined force behind watching the final season)

NOW, onto my actual thoughts on the episode, in no semblance of order because my brain is still trying to process, Ft. Cry count:

• Wish Tech was here. He would’ve loved the Zillo being freed.

• “‘Cause I’d do the same thing” no you wouldn’t. Fives would’ve. The you I fell in love with would’ve yelled at Fives about it being a terrible idea and then promptly gone along with it anyway. That said it was a really cute moment and I loved his nonchalant little “come on” afterwards.

• C: “Echo or Omega?” W&H: “Omega” THEY KNOW THEIR GIRL SO WELL

• When Hemlock went to get the operatives I got excited thinking maybe, just maybe we’d get Tech back.

• CROSSHAIR LOST HIS FREAKING HAND!?!? WHAT THE HECK!?! I will never stop being salty about this. He’s been through enough. [Near Tears]

• Rampart sucks

• Nala Se got to blow stuff up and I appreciate that even if I don’t really like her

• I’m glad Wrecker’s okay. He had me scared for a bit. Hunter, conversely, never really did? He’s Omega’s Dad, he had to survive.

• Did anybody else see that one operative whose helmet seemingly had goggles built into it? We had a lingering shot on his helmet for a few seconds and they looked like a red version of Tech’s goggles.

• SCORCH IS DEAD AND YOU’D BETTER BELIEVE I’M MAD ABOUT IT! [First shedding of tears]

• HECK YEAH, HEMLOCK IS DEAD!!! [Tears of relief combined with grief over Scorch]

• I’m so glad Omega hugged Crosshair first. I fully expected her to just run to Hunter, and Crosshair needed that hug.

• Echo’s goodbye was disrespectful. 0/10. He’s family and they don’t even care that he’s leaving???

• SOMEONE IS MISSING FROM OUR NICE LITTLE GROUP SHOT!

• I never really got super invested in the dynamic between Omega and Hunter, but the ending between them was cute I guess.

• We were robbed. We could’ve gotten Crosshair and Wrecker as old men and we were robbed.

• Tech is dead. Like, seriously, really and truly, dead. As a delusional “Tech’s alive guys, trust me” fan, it feels like he just died all over again. I’ll talk more about this later because I’m not over it. [Que sob-fest]

alright, circling back around to my main gripes, in order of appearance:

#1. Scorch.

I hate how they handled him. At first when he showed up I got super excited. That was my boy! In the Bad Batch show!! He’s making an appearance!!! Maybe they’ll do something with the Delta boys!!

Even as the episodes went on and I started to suspect where his path was leading, I consistently would go “Scorch!!! <3” every episode, because that is my boy and I love him dearly.

The levels of offended I am on Scorch’s behalf are not within my ability to express with words. The complete and utter disrespect he was shown over his time on the show is appalling. Why bring him in if you’re going to drain him of all his personality, make him have zero plot relevance, and then murder him?! They could easily have made a new clone for that, as seen by the number of operatives who exist and got 0.5 minutes of screen time.

But no. They brought in a beloved character with 10 seconds of canonical screen time prior, stripped him of everything that made him lovable, didn’t even have him DO ANYTHING, and then murdered him. It feels like a spit in the face and a kick to the gut all at once.

I will mourn. I’ve already cried and I’ll probably cry again. But right now I’m angry and I think Scorch deserves to have people be angry about how he was treated.

#2. Tech

Yes. I admit to having been a “trust me guys, Tech’s alive” person. I will also admit that at the end of episode 13 I wanted him to stay dead because I had zero faith they could satisfactorily bring him back.

My gripe is not with him staying dead. Yes, it feels like losing him all over again. Yes, I will mourn him again. Yes. That sucks. It’s not what’s making me mad.

What makes me mad is how his death was handled.

• It served ZERO purpose narratively other than to up the stakes and make us worry about whether anyone else would die (Spoiler alert: They didn’t. Tech was the only one who died) • Nobody mourned him. No one seemed affected by his death at all. No one cared. I don’t care what anyone says, that will NEVER be okay. • The first actual mention of Tech *dying* was in the finale. Sure, we’ve had name drops and goggle appearances, but actually talking about what happened? One line. One. Freaking. Line.

I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face, you know? He deserved better and so did we. He was a part of that family and they couldn’t even be bothered to address the responses to his death. He was beloved by many of us and they couldn’t even respect him or his fans enough to treat his death like something to be mourned.

That’s wrong, no matter how you look at it.

[prpfz]

hi hello! 🫆 nineteen nb for eighteen+ writers. discord based, lazy lit to novella, dead dove and smut themes to be expected, ocxcc doubles, all pairings welcome! trying this once again… not sure how well this will land the second time around, but the brainrot is so bad this time…

now that i’m officially out for summer, i’ve been wanting to pick up some new longterm threads to keep me from dying of boredom… so, i’m here to propose something a bit different. i’m looking for anyone eighteen+ who’d be willing to research a fandom of my choosing, in exchange for the same on my end! i’m incredibly open to watching through and generally consuming your desired media to properly be able to portray muses and understand the plot! i do expect the same energy in return to keep things fair. bonus points if you’re willing to write for multiple fandoms or include au threads of our main plot! specifically searching for ocxcc doubles atm, so you’ll be writing a desired love interest for my oc, and i will do the same for you! polyships + multiple love interests are also offered and highly encouraged!

would love to find someone who can match my freak and include a healthy amount of dead dove concepts! some to look out for are dub/noncon, drug abuse, incest, questionable age gaps, gore and torture, cannibalism, sh, and more! i have virtually no limits of my own, so i’d love to write with someone who’s the same! ofc, i’m more than willing to negotiation + limits can be discussed in dms. i would like to include some smut here and there, so nsfw themes are to be expected! an ideal plot to smut ratio would be anywhere from 60:40 to 50:50. my muses are often switches, so i would love you so much if you were to also portray my love interest as a verse, as well! all pairings welcome + trans muses are very much encouraged! however, my side will more than likely be an mxm or mxftm dynamic.

i am very desperate for some of these fandoms, so i’m not asking for a lot here… the only things i require are that you come with an open mind and be ready to share ideas + fandoms! i’m essentially just looking for someone to gush over our ocs, fandoms, and chat with! if this is you, pls do interact! we are here to be self indulgent! if any of this sounds interesting, please leave a like and i’ll reach out asap! :3

Leave a like, and anon will get back to you!

[findroleplay]

hi! 🕊️ twenty1 plus rper searching for fellow twenty1 plus writers. this is going to be long lol. i'm looking to play a few dominant males / females to balance out all the bottoms i currently write! i'm mostly looking for cc x cc but i might be open to cc x oc or oc x oc if i a) like the fc of the oc or b) we discuss / build oc dynamics together beforehand. bolded chars are the ones i have most muse / interest for at the moment: the fandoms i'm looking for: the walking dead, harry potter, the last of us, game of thrones / hotd, hunger games, dceu, mcu, supernatural, riverdale, horror fandoms.

faceclaims i'm eager to use for ocs: jeffrey dean morgan, brad pitt, robert downey jr, jake gyllenhaal, pedro pascal, cillian murphy, hugh jackman. / rebecca fergunson, helena bonham carter, kate winslet, gillian anderson, katy m. o'brian, sandra bullock, charlize theron.

just a couple of things:

i don’t do doubles.

tupperbot use is a MUST.

i have alt fcs for some canons (like ellie). i don't ship most of the canon ships for some of these chars (like finnick). most of the ships i'm looking for are rare, toxic or some kinda crossover.

i want a min. of 3 ships per server, so don't contact me for ss.

looking for darker, angstier themes. 70/30 smut ratio.

really want omegaverse for most of these with my characters playing the dominant alpha role.

i’m a novella writer (around 3-5 paras at a min). matching lenth is not expected but if your replies lack the sort of details i put in mine, i'll get bored very quickly.

i'm a slow replier. i have a lot of other rps going on so don't expect me to be fast all the time. i can be faster if i got a lot of muse for the plot / character, but i'm looking for CHILL partners.

will ask for a writing sample as well as i want to make sure i’m finding the right partners. pls like this and i’ll reach out ❤️

-

[atopvisenyashill]

It is me your dear jonsa neutral acquaintance to say that I do not think it is damning that Jon doesn’t react to the marriage. I understand why so many people see jonsa in the stories and why they find it compelling. I think the ultimate rebuttal to that is just to be like. So what? They weren’t close as kids. Jon doesn’t have feelings for her at the time but that doesn’t mean they can not or will not develop feelings for each other. It just seems like such a nothing criticism unless it’s specifically meant to counter the idea of a pre canon crush but I don’t think that’s what you nor many other jonsas are suggesting. From what I’ve seen, book jonsa is based on potential, with the lack of a close and well-defined relationship creating an opening for an interesting romance dynamic, and on narrative parallels and hints, not on the way the two characters currently think about each other. Many in the anti camp cannot seem to grasp this even though they understand it as a basis for jxd

YES exactly that. There definitely are jonsas that believe in like ~the pre canon crush~ and I’ve definitely read fics for that, and I’m not here to yuck anyone’s yum but I would say when talking about Canon Jonsa there’s general consensus that the lack of familiarity as children is set up for a potential romantic plot - reuniting with the sibling you were least closest to, developing this bond based in shared trauma that deepens in a way neither of them are comfortable with, and the parentage reveal setting the stage for them to ~be allowed to be together. As you say it’s not dissimilar from jxd - again, a relative you were not close to being the one you wind up reconnecting with, developing a bone based in shared trauma that deepens, and the parentage reveal being some sort of ~romantic confirmation. It's always been so goofy to me that one of these ships is seen as not valid analysis of the themes and the other is when they are based on essentially the exact same thing which is really opaque hints and potential lol.

And you're definitely right that the rebuttal to his non reaction is essentially “who gives a shit” lmao. As I’ve said, we also don't see his reaction to Robb's murder (and like god would I have loved to see Jon's initial reaction to Robb and Catelyn dying together), and he's in the middle of a very tricky conversation with Stannis he's not about to start antagonizing him by snapping about how her name is Sansa Stark not Sansa Lannister. And also like, beyond that, again, as I've reread I've noticed a lot re: marriage and hostage-bride situations and one thing I find fascinating (and disturbing) is that these marriages are taken as valid - you can't get them annuled or anything like that, they're not considered less valid simply for being done at the sharp end of a sword. And while Jon is like, wildly progressive for a man in Terros, I do think it's very likely that his ~progressivism~ would manifest not as "Sansa is a child bride and that marriage isn't valid nor is her identity subsumed into a husband's" but more as "Whomever she is married to, Sansa comes before me in the line of succession and I will not usurp her simply for being married to someone who sucks - and if she decides to murder him for hostage-marrying her, well, he deserved it" because "it's fine for a wife to murder her hostage-husband" is something we see said multiple times and especially in the North and amongst the wildlings (but also - Robb says this! I believe Rodrik says this as well in a discussion of Donella Hornwood's marriage to Ramsay! the rule is that the forced marriage is fine but so is a wife murdering that man for forced marrying her! deranged!!). And also like, he's just got so many fucking things on his mind re: his own status as a bastard, the situation at he Wall, and the overreaching war, like, why are we hung up on this lmao, he's stressed and he's about to be murdered omg.