#I can’t fucking do this. I can’t do anything. I can’t even be responsible for myself

[samcvrpenters]

warnings: smut, afab! reader, fingering, implied overstimulation, mean! caitlyn, secret agent! caitlyn, criminal! reader (not specified what crime it is)

note: again, i’m not the best at writing smut, so i might delete this later

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“fucking betraying me— your country—“ to say caitlyn’s words were rushed would be an understatement. it’s like she’s scrambling to get them out, whilst working at a quick and rough pace. she’s meant to be rough. she’s annoyed. she can be. she has every right to be.

“do you have any remorse for all of that? or are you still pleased with yourself?” caitlyn’s tone is a hiss, and she barely gives you a break.

her fingers are shoving wildly in and out of you, and she can feel you clenching around her knuckles when she’s pounding against your most sensitive spot and she just doesn’t care if you keep finishing over her fingers because she needs this.

just as you do.

at first, the interaction was pure chaos, attempting to hit each other and shoot each other but soon enough you were kissing her and she reciprocated.

but that doesn’t mean she has to be nice to you about it. she can still love you and be aggressive.

“were you even going to ever take responsibility for it or are you so selfish that you don’t care about the fact you fucked everyone over?”

she knows you can’t say anything in response because all you can do is hopelessly moan into her shoulder as her fingernails scrape against your insides and make you feel so good.

and you know you shouldn’t.

she’s a secret agent. you’re a wanted criminal.

but fuck that.

she wants you and you want her. if this is the best you can get, you’re going to take it.

[monster-disaster]

https://www.tumblr.com/monster-disaster/760344475674542080/i-need-a-part-2-of-your-dragon-fic-where-he-fucks?source=share

He's a dragon, I'm sure he can find some kind of potion or spell to shrink down his size for even just a few hours (I need him)

dragon!Diman x human!Reader Good to know: smut

Previous request: [dragon] Diman

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You sit on the cold, unforgiving ground, your legs crossed awkwardly beneath you as you stare intently at the small jar before you. The liquid inside shimmers faintly in the dim light, and you can’t help but scowl as you blink at it, convinced it looks suspiciously like water.

“Are you sure it’s not just water?” you call out, your voice echoing slightly in the stillness. You don’t even bother to glance at the large dragon a few meters away behind you. You know he is there. His presence fills the cave even when he says and does nothing.

The male huffs in response. “Do you really think someone would dare to scam me?” His voice rumbles like distant thunder.

You shrug, feeling a mixture of uncertainty and defiance. “Well, everyone can be stupid at least once,” you reason.

“Sure they can,” Diman scoffs again.

A moment of silence stretches between you before you break it again. “And what if something goes wrong?” you ask. “I don’t want you to get hurt just because-”

When your sentence trails off and you glance at him over your shoulder, Diman’s large mouth splits into a wolfish grin. His sharp teeth gleam under the candlelight's orange glow. “Just because you want my cock?” The teasing lilt in his voice sends a rush of warmth through you.

You’ve lived with Diman for almost a year now, and in that time, he’s pushed you to the brink of ecstasy more times than you can count. Some days, it’s almost a competition to him to see just how many times you can reach your climax, yet, despite the familiarity of his teasing, you still feel your cheeks heat up at his words.

“Come now,” he purrs. His voice is smooth as silk and dripping with playful seduction. “You can’t tell me that you don’t want it.”

You can’t deny the truth in his words. The longing that has built inside you each day has become maddening. No matter how close you feel to Diman, there’s an unmistakable barrier created by the vast difference in size between you.

“Of course I want it,” you reply steadily despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach. “I want you, but not at all costs.”

You hear him rising to his feet, the powerful thud of his clawed paws against the ground reverberating through the silence. He moves gracefully, as if the weight of his massive body is a mere afterthought, and settles down beside you with a gentle thump that stirs the earth beneath you. His head lowers, resting next to your body, and you can’t help but admire the contrast between his imposing form and your own.

Diman’s large eyes soften as he gazes at you, a flicker of understanding shining in the depths of his golden irises. He leans into your offered hand, rubbing his nose against your palm, the warmth of his breath sending shivers up your arm. “It’s safe,” he assures you, his voice deep and reassuring. “The worst that can happen is nothing.” There’s a calm certainty in his words that soothes your worries, but still, a part of you hesitates.

“And what if you stay that size? What then?”

His expression shifts to teasing in an instant, that signature glint returning to his eyes. “What? You won’t love me anymore?” He laughs.

You elbow him playfully, though you can’t shake the feeling that he feels it less than you do. “I don’t want you to change. Would you really be happy if you stayed my size?” The question hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths.

Diman’s large mouth opens, and for a moment, it seems he’s ready to respond, but then his voice falters, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features.

“See?” you point out, a small smile playing on your lips. “You would hate it. You like being this scary dragon who can burn down anything.” The words come out more playful than accusatory.

He locks his gaze with you, a knowing look passing between you. “You love that too,” he counters. “And my offer still stands.”

“You won’t burn down my ex-village,” you tell him firmly, your brow furrowing slightly. The thought of it doesn’t stir any deep feelings within you; the village holds no charm or attachment. They had cast you aside, throwing you into the dragon's arms as if your life were a mere game, an expendable pawn in their fears. Even though Diman is the best thing that ever happened to you, the villagers didn’t know that. They had always seen him as a monstrous threat, and now, they likely think you already died at his claws. You are sure they had already forgotten you even existed.

He huffs in mock disappointment, but you can see the spark of mischief in his eyes as he glances back at the small vial still sitting on the ground. The shimmering liquid inside catches the light, glinting like a treasure waiting to be uncovered.

“So?” he asks, tilting his head slightly. “Do you want me to drink it?”

“You won’t leave me alone until I say yes anyway,” you reply, attempting to suppress the flicker of worry that still lingers in the back of your mind.

“You’re right,” he nods, his golden eyes alight with mischief. Stubborn as ever, and not even trying to hide it.

You sigh, relenting. “Then drink it.”

Diman gives a satisfied rumble, rising to his feet and approaching the small vial on the ground with a careful slowness. He lowers his massive snout until it hovers just above the tiny glass container, his eyes narrowing with annoyance.

Then, after a long pause, he glances up. “Could you… open it?”

The request sounds so awkward, so endearingly out of place, that you can’t help yourself, you lean back, bursting into laughter. “Oh, you beast!” Your voice echoes off the mountain walls.

“Har-har-har,” he grunts, rolling his eyes but staying completely still, clearly waiting for you to help.

Shaking your head with a grin, you finally stand and walk over to the vial. Reaching out, you pop it open. The glass feels cool and smooth beneath your fingers as you twist the tiny cap, releasing a faint, fragrant aroma that drifts up to your nose. It doesn't smell familiar, and it only makes you more worried.

Diman’s eyes remain locked on yours, his gaze intense and unwavering, as you hold out the open vial. For a brief moment, time seems to stand still, the air thick with anticipation, and then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he parts his jaws, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth that glint in the dim light. You carefully reach over the intimidating barrier of fangs, and tilt the vial.

The moment the liquid touches his tongue, the two of you hold your breath, eyes locked on one another as you pull back, watching him intently. You wait, bracing for some shift, some sign of transformation, but the seconds drag on, stretching into a long, tense silence. Diman’s form remains unchanged.

“Do you feel anything?” you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“Nothing,” he replies.

You raise an eyebrow. “How did it taste?”

Diman gives a small shake of his head, his expression unreadable. “Didn’t feel that either,” he mutters, glancing down at the vial with an annoyed huff.

“So… you think they really scammed you?” you ask cautiously, watching his expression closely. Though a part of you feels relieved that nothing bad happened, you can sense Diman’s disappointment like a wave radiating off him. The excitement in his eyes has faded, replaced with a quiet frustration that’s hard to ignore.

“Not necessarily,” he says, shaking his large head slowly, his gaze lingering on the empty vial. “These things… Magic isn’t something you can predict.” His voice is low and thoughtful, as though he’s trying to reason through his own expectations.

More seconds pass, each one dragging with anticipation. Finally, Diman lets out a deep, frustrated huff, the sound echoing off the rough mountain walls. “I’ll still be asking for my gold back,” he mutters, tinged with irritation as he turns, flicking his tail dismissively.

You can’t help it. Your jaw clenches, stifling a laugh as you watch him stalk toward the nest you’ve built together. The sight of a massive dragon sulking over a failed potion is so absurdly endearing that a warm amusement bubbles up in your chest. You know you should feel some disappointment, at least to some extent, but the truth is, your fears had outweighed your hopes all along. A part of you braced for the worst, imagining scenarios where the magic might have gone wrong, and relief floods you. Diman, however, had believed in this wholeheartedly, his hopes stretching far beyond your cautious expectations. As he lies there, huffing quietly to himself, you can feel the lingering frustration radiating from him. For him, the vial had promised something grand, a spark of magic that could have changed everything. Something that could have brought you closer together. And now, that possibility sits hollow between you.

With a sigh, you settle into the nest beside him, pressing yourself close to his hard, scaly skin, feeling the familiar warmth seep through. Blankets and layers of fabric cocoon you, but it’s his presence that truly wraps you in comfort. Reaching out, you let your fingers trail slowly over his scales, each ridge grounding you with its solid, reassuring warmth.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work,” you murmur, resting your hand on his muzzle, feeling his steady breaths rise and fall. “I know how much you wanted it.”

Diman lets out a soft sigh, his eyes drifting shut, the weight of his disappointment evident in the subtle slump of his shoulders. “I suppose… magic can’t fix everything,” he says, a note of reluctant acceptance in his voice.

You scowl, the words prickling at something within you. “We didn’t need fixing,” you correct him firmly, your voice resolute. “We just needed a little help, that’s all.”

His eyes flick open, absorbing the certainty in your tone. “Careful,” he teases, the edge of a smirk tugging at his lips. “If you get any angrier, you just might breathe fire.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. “Please. Like that wouldn’t turn you on.”

A rumbling laugh escapes him, deep and rich, reverberating through his chest and into you, filling the entire nest with his amusement. “Without question.”

Soon, a comfortable silence settles between you, wrapping around you as gently as Diman’s scales. The dim light casts soft shadows across the nest, and the warmth of his body radiates through the blankets, lulling you into a calm, drowsy state until you both fall asleep.

The morning feels like it comes too soon as you awaken to the sensation of something, or someone, touching you. A large hand grips your hips roughly, and something warm and demanding grinds against your backside from behind, and your instinct kicks in almost immediately. You jolt up, adrenaline flooding your system, a mix of fear and anger igniting within you.

“Who-” you start to threaten, ready to defend yourself, but your words falter as your gaze settles on Diman. The dragon, though still large and dominating, is much smaller than last night.

He looks at you, an excited grin spreading across his muzzle, and those familiar golden eyes sparkle with mischief. “Good morning,” he rumbles. The low growl of his voice reverberates through the air, sending a thrill through you despite the surprise.

You blink in confusion. “What happened to you?” you ask, your heart racing as you process the changes. The potion actually worked.

Diman shifts slightly, his movements graceful even in this smaller form, and he chuckles softly. “Seems like the potion had a bit of an effect after all,” he replies with a playful gleam in his eye. “I suppose it decided to play a trick on me.”

"You are smaller!" you exclaim, still shocked.

Diman huffs with a playful mockery in his tone. “Yeah, every male loves to hear that.”

You can’t help but laugh, nearly throwing yourself at him as you eagerly scan his new form over and over again. “No, really! Look! I can cup your face!” With that, you do just that, cradling his still-large head in your palms, marveling at how you can finally reach him so easily. Though he’s undeniably still big and powerful, the change is strikingly evident.

The dragon lets out a deep, rumbling laugh. “Yes, you can.” His fingers curl gently around your wrists, holding you steady as you settle over his torso, your heart racing with the thrill of exploration. “And you know what else you can?”

“What?” you ask, curiosity piqued by the teasing lilt in his voice.

“You can kiss me too.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you process his words, a flutter of excitement mixed with nervousness unfurling in your stomach. Though you’ve shared many intimate moments, the size difference has always kept you from kissing. Now, with Diman smaller and more accessible, it feels like a significant milestone. A first kiss with the male you love. You stare into his warm, golden eyes, seeing a playful invitation and a deep sincerity in his gaze. The moment stretches between you, heavy with anticipation. Everything you feel for him swells, memories of your shared experiences flooding your mind, and you realize how much you’ve longed for this simple, yet profound act.

Bracing yourself on his broad chest, you lean in, closing the distance with a racing heart and burning anticipation. The moment your lips meet his, his arms curl around you, holding you tight as he captures you in a searing kiss that feels both exhilarating and surreal.

It is a little awkward, his snout makes things difficult, creating a strange angle, but you don’t care about anything. As his tongue slips into your mouth, a thrill runs through you, sending shivers down your spine. You respond instinctively, matching his intensity. Your own tongue shyly dances with his as the world around you fades into a blissful haze. Every worry and every lingering doubt dissipates in the wake of this kiss. You grip his scales, feeling the power beneath your fingertips, and you can’t help but smile against his mouth, exhilaration bubbling up inside you. Diman’s hold tightens, his powerful form radiating safety and warmth, and you revel in the delicious contrast between his strength and the tenderness he holds.

Soon, your kiss turns even more heated. The world outside is completely forgotten as you lose yourselves in each other. Diman’s hands move with a surprising gentleness, yet there’s a firm intent behind them as they find your hips, guiding you across the length of his cock that juts out from the sheath of his scales.

You gasp against his mouth, the sensation sending a rush of heat through your body, amplifying the electric tension that fills the air between you. His touch is both exhilarating and overwhelming, the sheer size of him a reminder of the powerful creature he is, even in this smaller form.

The friction between your bodies ignites a primal instinct within you, a desire that has been simmering just beneath the surface for far too long. As he guides you, the reality of the moment washes over you, filling you with a mix of excitement and need.

“Fuck me,” you hum against his mouth, the words spilling out in a breathy whisper. “Fuck me, please,” you plead, desperation creeping into your voice as the heat of the moment grows inside you.

“As you wish,” he replies, his tone low and filled with a teasing promise.

With quick, deliberate movements, he tugs your nightgown off your body, the fabric sliding away to leave you bare and vulnerable atop him. The cool air kisses your skin, contrasting sharply with the warmth of his body beneath you.

Diman’s eyes darken with desire as he takes in your exposed form. His hands roam across your skin, exploring the curves of your body as he takes his time, savoring the moment. Each caress sends shivers down your spine, igniting every nerve ending as you arch against him, hungry for more. Your hips grind down on him in a restless motion, each movement filled with desire, and your lips part with a silent whine when one of his hands cups your breast, the hard pad of his thumb brushing over your nipple with just the right amount of pressure.

“Perfect,” the dragon groans, the sound rumbling deep within his chest as he pulls you closer, just enough so he can take your breast into his mouth. His warm breath sends another wave of tingling pleasure through you, and you gasp, your body instinctively arching toward him as he swipes his tongue over the hard bud again and again, sending sparks of electricity shooting through your core. Diman’s mouth is a warm haven, his skilled tongue teasing and exploring in ways that leave you breathless. You can feel the heat pooling low in your belly, the need for him growing with each passing moment.

He responds to your silent plea, his other hand sliding down your body, fingers trailing along your waist before finding their way between your legs. You shiver as he brushes against your most sensitive area. “You’re so responsive,” he murmurs, his voice thick with lust. “I could stay here forever.”

You feel your body respond eagerly to his touch. Diman’s fingers find your most sensitive spot, teasing you with a gentle caress that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. The heat pooling in your belly intensifies as he continues to explore, each movement deliberate and intoxicating.

“Please,” you gasp, the word slipping from your lips as you lose yourself in the sensations. You can’t get enough of him, of the way he touches you, the way he makes you feel utterly desired. Your hips rock against his hand, chasing the pleasure he offers, and you can feel your body tightening, coiling with need.

Diman’s gaze is locked on you, filled with a mixture of hunger and adoration as he watches your reactions. “You’re beautiful like this,” he growls, the timbre of his voice sending another rush of warmth across your heated skin. “So responsive, so ready.”

His fingers begin to work in earnest, sliding through your slickness, exploring your heat with a confidence that sends you spiraling further into bliss. You arch your back, gasping as he finds the perfect rhythm, his touch sending you closer to the edge with every passing second.

“Diman, I-” you start, but the words fade into a soft moan as he applies just the right pressure, his thumb circling your sensitive nub while his fingers plunge deeper into your pussy. You can feel the tension building, a delicious wave of pleasure that threatens to wash over you.

“Let go,” he urges, his voice low and sultry as he leans in to capture your lips again. The taste of him, of warmth and desire, fills your senses, pushing you closer to the precipice.

With every thrust of his fingers and every flick of his tongue, you feel the world around you dissolve, leaving only the two of you caught in this moment.

“Diman, I’m so close,” you breathe against his mouth, your body trembling with the effort of holding back. His eyes gleam with anticipation, and you know he wants to see you come undone for him.

“Then let it happen,” he whispers with a raw need that matches your own. “I want to feel you fall apart.”

With his encouragement, you surrender to the pleasure, letting it wash over you in powerful waves. You cry out, the sound escaping your lips as you feel the release crash over you, your body shaking with the force of it. Diman holds you close, his hands steadying you as you ride the waves of ecstasy, feeling utterly consumed in his protective arms.

The day passes by in a hazy heat, the cave echoing with your moans and the wet sounds of your bodies meeting over and over again. Each moment feels intoxicating, a blur of pleasure that leaves you half-delirious. You lose track of time, lost in the warmth of Diman’s body and the fierce kisses you share.

But soon, a low growl emanates from your stomach. Diman’s keen ears perk up at the noise, and he pauses, his gaze shifting from the heat of the moment to your flushed face. “You need to eat,” he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Before you can protest, he rises from beneath you, his large frame casting a shadow over your body as he retrieves a sizable plate piled high with fruits and leftover meat from yesterday. The sight is mouthwatering, but your legs feel so shaky from your recent orgasms that you can’t even attempt to stand.

Diman sets the plate down beside you, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “You need your strength, little one,” he murmurs, concern threading through his voice.

As you nibble on the fruit, you feel a mix of satisfaction and frustration. The sweetness of the berries bursts in your mouth, refreshing and filling, but it’s difficult to focus on anything other than the ache of longing still lingering inside you. Even this brief pause to eat seems too long without him inside you, all over you.

There’s a playful glint in his gaze as the dragon watches you, one that makes your heart race in anticipation. “Do I need to remind you how to eat properly?” he teases, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress a laugh. “I think I remember how to eat, thank you very much,” you reply, your voice teasing back. But as you finish the last of the fruit, the lingering heat from earlier starts to settle back in, pooling low in your belly once more.

“Good. Now, what do you want next?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low rumble that sends a thrill through you.

You meet his gaze, the air thick with unspoken desire. “I want you,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “I want you again.”

His smirk widens, revealing sharp teeth that glint in the dim light of the cave. “Then I suppose we should get back to it, shouldn’t we?” he replies, his tone dripping with mischief.

Your heart leaps at the promise in his words, and you eagerly nod, ready to lose yourself once more in the heat of his embrace.

Even though your body has adjusted to his large size, you can still feel every inch of him penetrating your drenched heat as Diman pounds into you restlessly. Each thrust sends a wave of pleasure rippling through you, igniting the fire that smolders in your core. Your fingers grip the soft fabrics of the nest beneath you, desperately trying to anchor yourself as you keep your shaking legs spread wide open, moving against him with each powerful thrust.

His grip is bruisingly tight on your hips, holding you firmly in place as he drives into you with a primal intensity that leaves you gasping for breath. The sounds of your bodies meeting, skin against skin, and the wet squelch of your pleasure, echo in the cave, mingling with your moans and his deep growls of satisfaction. It’s a wild symphony of desire that fills the air around you.

You can feel the heat radiating from him, the raw power of his body as he claims you over and over again. The slickness between your legs becomes a glistening mess, a testament of the last several hours. Your juices mix with his cum, dripping down your thighs and smearing across your skin.

With each thrust, the pressure builds within you, a delicious tension that teeters on the edge of release. “Diman,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need. “I’m so close… Please.”

He responds with a low, rumbling growl that vibrates through your body as he quickens his pace. “Then let go, little one,” he urges. His voice is a sultry whisper against your ear. “I want to feel you come around me.”

The way he says it, filled with longing and authority, sends you spiraling closer to that edge. You can feel your body tightening, the pleasure pooling and building until it feels almost unbearable. You arch your back, pushing against him, urging him deeper, craving the sweet release that hovers just out of reach.

With one final, powerful thrust, Diman hits that perfect spot deep inside you, sending you over the edge. Your body quakes with the force of your climax, a wave of ecstasy crashing through you as you cry out his name. It echoes in the cave.

The dragon growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrusts into you a few more times, riding out your release with you. You can feel him swell inside you, the heat of his body overwhelming as he spills into you, filling you completely. It’s a sensation that makes your heart race and your body sing, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed in the afterglow.

The dragon settles down beside you, both of you weak and breathless, the air heavy with the lingering scent of your shared passion. “There are not enough positions for how much I want you,” he says, low and raspy.

You can’t help but laugh, a light sound that echoes softly in the cave. Turning around to face him, you meet with the warmth of his gaze. The golden hue of his eyes is still filled with need and affection. Your muscles shake slightly from the exertion, and you can feel the delicious sensitivity radiating from your core. Even the lightest rub of your thighs together sends tremors through your body, making you keenly aware of just how much he’s awakened every nerve.

“Careful,” you tease, a playful smile dancing on your lips. “I might take that as an invitation for round-” Your words halt, caught in the air as you lock eyes with him.

Diman shakes his head, amusement sparkling in his golden gaze. “I lost count,” he replies, the corners of his mouth curling up in a sly grin. “But I know I’m not done yet.”

The playful banter hangs between you, thick with a tension that electrifies the space. You can feel your heart racing, anticipation bubbling up inside you. His confidence is intoxicating, and the warmth of his body against yours only heightens your own, never-easing hunger.

“Maybe we should start again from the beginning,” you suggest, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper as you lean in closer. “Explore every position until we can’t move anymore.”

A low growl rumbles in Diman’s chest at your words, sending a thrill of excitement across your spine. “Oh, I like the sound of that,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “But you might need to hold on tight. I have a feeling this will be one wild ride.”

You grin, the challenge igniting a spark of mischief in your eyes. “Bring it on,” you reply boldly, pushing against him playfully.

With a quick movement, Diman rolls you onto your back, his weight settling over you, strong and powerful yet careful not to crush you. The playful glint in his eyes mirrors your own excitement, and you can’t help but laugh as he leans down, his snout hovering inches from your face.

“Let’s see just how many ways I can make you feel good again,” he says, thick with promise.

Without saying a word, you arch your back against him, craving his touch once more, and Diman, with a wicked smile, lowers his head. His warm breath fans across your skin as he presses soft kisses along your collarbone. Each gentle caress of his lips sends tingling shivers cascading down your spine, awakening every nerve ending in your body. “I hope you’re ready."

Your heart races in anticipation, and you nod, breathless and eager. “I am.” Your reply is barely louder than a whisper. “I want you, Diman.”

His eyes flare with heat at your words, and he responds with a deep, possessive growl that vibrates through your chest. With newfound urgency, he captures your lips with his. You melt into him, your body arching against his as he explores your mouth with a hungry fervor.

With each kiss, Diman’s hands wander, tracing the curves of your body and igniting flames of desire with every gentle touch. His fingers find your waist, gripping you tightly as he pulls you closer, their strength both grounding and exhilarating. You can feel the heat radiating from him, overwhelming yet comforting, as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a sultry dance that leaves you breathless.

As he pulls away slightly, his gaze locks onto yours, intense and full of promise. “Tell me what you want,” he urges.

You can’t help but let out a soft moan, feeling the delicious heat pooling in your core. “I want to feel you inside me,” you confess, trembling slightly with excitement.

A predatory smile spreads across Diman’s face, and he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “As you wish.”

With that, he positions himself above you, his powerful frame eclipsing the dim light of the cave. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air as he slowly begins to guide himself to your entrance. Your breath hitches at the sensation, the fullness of him hovering just at the brink, teasing you with every passing second.

“Please,” you urge, the need in your tone is undeniable.

Diman’s gaze darkens with lust as he pushes into you, filling you completely in one smooth motion. You both gasp at the sensation, the exquisite pressure and warmth engulfing you as he stretches you to your limits. It’s overwhelming, exhilarating, and utterly perfect.

“Just like that,” you encourage, your hips instinctively rolling against him, urging him to move deeper. “Don’t hold back.”

He grins with a wicked glint in his eyes as he responds to your plea. With powerful, deliberate thrusts, he begins to move inside you. Each stroke of his cock in your drenched pussy causes a mix of pleasure and pain to throb through your body. You are oversensitive and tired, but the burning knot in your stomach doesn't let you rest. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air, mingling with your gasps and moans.

Diman’s powerful frame shifts and molds against yours, finding that perfect rhythm that leaves you breathless. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other, consumed by the fire of your lust for each other.

“You feel so good,” the dragon growls, his breath hot against your skin as he leans down to capture your lips once more. The kiss is fervent, filled with raw passion and impatience.

“Don’t stop,” you plead. Your voice trembles with desperation as you cling to him, your nails digging into his scales as you move with him, wanting more, craving everything he has to give.

Diman responds with a primal roar, his movements becoming more frantic and more intense as he drives deeper into you. The air between you becomes electric, each thrust bringing you closer to that delicious peak of your orgasm.

“Let go with me,” he commands.

And then, just as you reach another climax, the world explodes around you in a blinding rush of pleasure. You cry out his name, the sound echoing through the cave as waves of ecstasy crash over you, pulling you down into the depths of bliss as Diman follows you, his body shuddering against yours, filling you completely with the heat of his release.

The morning comes, and you aren't sure how. You’re convinced you simply lost your consciousness at some point, overwhelmed by the intensity of the night. As you turn around, the warmth of your shared body heat lingers in the air, but you are met with the familiar sight of Diman in his original form.

He’s large and imposing, his scales shimmering in the soft light filtering through the cave. His tail curls around you possessively, an instinctive gesture that makes your heart flutter. Diman opens his eyes slowly, blinking at you sleepily, a low rumble of contentment emanating from his chest.

“Good morning,” he rumbles, his voice still thick with sleep yet filled with an undertone of affection that sends warmth spreading through you. You can’t help but smile at the sight of him, a mix of fierce power and undeniable gentleness.

"You are back in your form," you tell him quietly, reaching out to caress his snout, your fingers gliding over the smooth, cool scales.

"I am back," he replies, his golden eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans into your touch, savoring your closeness.

Though yesterday was amazing and mind-blowing, and you can still feel the lingering sensation of him between your sore thighs and the warmth of his body enveloping you, you’re just as happy to see him back in his original form as you were to experience his smaller size. “I’m happy to see you,” you confess, your voice filled with sincerity.

Diman’s eyes soften at your words, and he lifts his massive head slightly. “I’m glad you are,” he murmurs, and you can sense the warmth of his emotions radiating from him.

For a while, you both lay in your nest, snuggled close, the world outside forgotten in the comfort of each other’s presence. The rhythm of his breath lulls you into a peaceful state until Diman breaks the silence. "Now, how about burning down your village?"

You blink, taken aback by his sudden shift in tone. "Would you really have the power to leave the mountain?" you ask, curiosity piqued despite the absurdity of the idea.

He hums in amusement, the sound deep and rumbling. "Not even the nest," he admits with a playful smirk curling his lips. "But I can go and get more of that potion if you want."

You shake your head, curling yourself against his massive, warm head, already half-asleep. "No," you sigh, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the comfort of his presence. "Let’s sleep for a whole week."

[nislost]

unvirgin | chapter 6

warnings: suggestive, people being mean again

(written + smau)

you’re driving back to your apartment after you finished your class. you have 2 hours to get ready and you need to look good. you quickly jump in the shower to shave and take off all that school stench off of you.

after two hours you check how you look in the mirror and you feel good. wearing the two piece outfit your friends voted on that consisted of a tight miniskirt that matched the cropped jacket you had and platform heels because who are you without your heels?

you rush out the door and make your way to the library after you notice you’re 5 minutes late. at least you’ll be fashionably late! you walk into the library searching for the black haired boy and when you do you smile walking your way over. tapping jeno on his shoulder he turns around startled.

“sorry i’m late” you whisper giving him an apologetic smile. “i-it’s fine don’t worry” he whispers before clearing his voice his eyes looking everywhere but you. you giggle at his nervous state before sitting in the empty seat next to him. you noticed he looked good really good…why? well he’s wearing the number 1 kitty cat defeater. gray sweatpants and a matching hoodie.

“so what did you need help with?” jeno asks softly not to bother others around. “everything” you groan “i swear math is my worst enemy” he chuckles at your words. “okay let’s start from the beginning of the topic we’re currently learning” he says as he takes out a stack of textbooks from his bag causing your jaw to drop.

your reaction makes him giggle which in return causes you to pout. “stop laughing at my pain” you mutter. you prepare mentally and physically for the time you’ll be spending here.

30 minutes in your brain is hurting and you’re completely frustrated. you begin working on a problem jeno gave you until your ears pick up a conversation behind you “omg did you see y/n with jeno?” one voice says “omg yeah i bet she’s trying to get into his pants” the other voice replies with a giggle. you can’t blame them you have a reputation, but it doesn’t give them the right to talk about you like that. “she’s such a fucking slut. poor jeno” the first voice says.

jeno notices your mood change and the conversation behind him. “i heard she fucked the principal and that’s why she’s here” they just kept going. they were wrong the reason you even got into this university was because you (kinda) tried in high school. don’t get you wrong you never studied or anything you just did the bare minimum and that got you a 3.4 gpa.

your friends wondered what happened since then and it’s just because you lost motivation and wanted to have more fun, but look where that landed you. you get up from your seat causing jeno to look at you confused and worried. you give him a smile “i’ll be right back” you state before you walking over to where those girls were.

seeing you in front of them made them shocked “what? you can talk shit about me behind my back why not in my face” you raise your brow waiting for them to respond. they just look at each other before one of them finally speaks up. “w-well it’s not like we’re wrong! look at yourself you dress like a prostitute” she spits out. the other girl taps her friend and points somewhere behind you. you turn around confused and see jeno.

“what’s going on here?” he asks. both the girls in front of you begin to stutter “n-nothing” “nothing at all! we’re just talking about how much we love y/n’s outfit” you roll your eyes at their words. jeno just hums in response before grabbing your arm and taking you back to your table. “anyways let’s continue our tutoring. don’t let anyone distract you.” he says giving you back your pencil.

you sigh before continuing solving the equations given.

2 hours pass and you’ve grown tired. “do you think we can stop for today?” you ask letting out a yawn. jeno chuckles before nodding. “oh i forgot to ask earlier but what would you want in return for you helping me? money, food or something else? i’m okay with doing anything” you turn to him. jeno ponders seeing if there is anything you could possibly help or do for him.

“can- no never mind that’s too embarrassing to ask for” he says blushing and looking away. this interests you a lot and makes you wonder. “just ask i already said id do anything” you say softly somewhat implying something. “i-i can’t” he stutters his nervousness makes you grin. you place a hand on his thigh to “comfort” him and it causes him to flinch. “jeno you can tell me” you pout tilting your head. he looks at the hand on his thigh then up at you.

“i have no experience…in you know” he mutters because you could hardly hear him you lean in closer “repeat what you said louder” he looks at you all flustered which makes something purr and it’s definitely not your pet cat at home. “can you h-help me um” he groans “take your time baby” you giggle. his ears perk up at the nickname you didn’t even realize you said.

“can you um unvirgin me?” he says softly looking at you with a vulnerable expression. you can’t help but giggle “unvirgin? seriously?” he looks at you embarrassed. “jeno are you sure? wouldn’t you want to save something like that for someone special?” you giggle again “i have no experience and everyone around our age has at least done it once and all my friends tease me” he looks at you with a pleading gaze.

“fine. i’ll unvirgin you, but only if i pass a math test. just so that’ll give you time to think this through” you stand up. jeno quickly nods before standing up as well and walking you to your car. “u-uh ill text you about our next session” he stutters slightly which makes him want to punch himself. you nod before driving off.

previous / next

taglist: @jenoleeaesthetic @yukisroom97 @4yunogf @iloveyou200 @antifrggile @t-102 @n0hyuck @cigarettesafterjae @bellymellyyyy @dudekiss3r @puzzlepiece-mp3 @nctdreamchaser @snoopyjimin @taeeflwrr @whothefvckami @minkyuncutie @sungsgirl @sunghoonsgfreal @toroufriteh @cookydream @flamingi @purrzitas @grassbutneo

[glitter-stained]

I'm writing a Jason Vs Dick fic for a secret santa exchange...

The prompt has the fic set during the Battle for the cowl arc - Jason is the villain. He's delusional (the dyeing his hair thing never really happened - he dyed his black hair red) and seriously messed up. It is a pretty dark fic.

Basically Jason knows on some level how badly messed up he is. He wants Dick to be his Robin, because he believes that it was Robin Dick who saved Bruce from darkness. He wants Dick (who is already juggling too much responsibility) to do the same for him... Be the light to his darkness...

Saw your posts about the BTFC arc in particular and mentally ill villains in general.

Any suggestions on how to handle the BtFC Jason?

...don’t ?

No, wait, listen. I know I said “write what you want as long as it’s self-aware”, it’s just you’ve chosen to write an absolute nightmare of a minefield to be self-aware about. I believe it’s possible to write Btfc fanfics that aren’t psychophobic, I just think it must be incredibly hard; Btfc is my second least favourite comic because all of it is soaked and drenched in psychophobia and I wish with all of my heart for dc to continue ignoring it and hopefully bury it under layers and layers of retcon until it’s less significant to Jason’s modern characterization than Waldo the clown (no hate on Waldo, he was much better than anything about Btfc though). So, I can give you advice for sure, I’m just concerned it will not be enough, because I wouldn’t trust myself to write a non-psychophobic Btfc fic, but you sure can try!

The core issue about Btfc (and any villainous characterization of Jason) is that, at the difference of other characters like the Joker, there’s a strange kind of coherence to it. For all we talk about Jason sometimes acting OOC, he’s reliably showing symptoms of BPD, like, to me, it’s pretty blatant. The difference between UTH and BiB or Btfc isn’t that he has BPD in one and not the other, it’s that BiB and Btfc are much more brutally psychophobic renditions of BPD than UTH (though UTH isn’t fully clean either). In other words, Btfc is a violent caricature of Borderline Personality Disorder. I’m not sure if this is on purpose, because on the one hand, it’s so consistent I feel like someone at dc told the writers “Jason has bpd” and they all ran with their caricatural representation of the disorder, or (because I don’t wanna underestimate dc’s ignorance regarding mental disorders) if they just read about him, thought “hey, he kinda fits into that subtype of stereotypical mental illness I have in mind” and projected their stereotypes about BPD about him without even knowing those are BPD stereotypes. The end result is the same: bpd on a spectrum from “almost well written” to “nastiest rep I’ve ever read”.

Now in Btfc (just as in UTH or BiB tbh) I’d say Jason is splitting, having an episode in which his BPD symptoms are flaring up completely. This can absolutely include brief psychotic episodes, and tbh the part you mentioned about dyeing his hair I can totally get behind. And because you’re writing Jason in the middle of a particularly intense episode, you can’t make the economy of considering the question of moral responsibility. If Jason is committing morally reprehensible actions as a consequence of the disordered patterns in the context of the episode, whether we’re talking about splitting or delusion or disordered thought patterns, you have to consider the question of responsibility, and on a spectrum. You also have to identify who is deciding those actions are morally reprehensible (is it Dick? The law? You, the author? The anticipated reader? All of them?) and whether you expect this judge is passed on the action, the person, or, who knows, even the disorder itself. And of course consider the implications of that fact. (For example, it’s completely possible for Dick, in the context he’s grown and developed in, and considering the insane stress he’s under, to be psychophobic as fuck; and obviously, writing a character doing something doesn’t mean that you support it, but if Jason is the villain and Dick is a hero and Dick is being psychophobic you should pay attention to whether the narrative is implying that Dick is right to be psychophobic about it.)

[pendingnomdeplume]

pairing: hozier x gn!reader rated: T (language)

PROMPT: A small, fleeting kiss - which is immediately followed by a passionate, hungry kiss.

author's note: This was pre-written and is part of a backlog of items I still have from the previous blog. xoxo.

“Five minutes!” A voice crackles over the radio clipped to your belt, yet you’re undeterred as you continue to stare Andrew down. It’s a stand-off of sorts—the natural progression of a confrontation after he made some snarky comment under his breath, and you whirled around on him to finally, finally ask him what his fucking problem is with you. 

“I seem to be the only person you can’t stand on this entire crew, and I just want to know why,” you say, your tone is low and restrained as you attempt to keep anyone else from hearing on the other side of the dressing room door. The rest of the band is waiting in the wings, but the pounding footsteps of crew members dashing by makes you nervous. 

Andrew glances between the door and you. His mouth opens and closes, but neither an excuse nor an answer comes out. Instead, he runs an agitated hand over his frizzy hair and sighs loudly. 

“I don’t know…” He trails off, eyes still averted away from your heated stare. 

“You don’t know…what, exactly? Don’t know what I’m talking about? Bullshit. You absolutely fucking do. Don’t know why you hate me so much? Then, please, figure it the fuck out. I’m here to do a job, and it’s really hard to personally assist someone when that person is being a total fucking dickhead all the time! Christ Almighty, I’ve only ever heard good things about you, and yet I’m somehow the one that gets this shitty, snarky version of y—” 

His hands are on your face before you even realize he’s stepped closer, too caught up in your own rant to pay attention. His touch is firm, squishing your cheeks as he tilts your head to force your own gaze upward. 

It happens in the blink of an eye. You feel the brush of a kiss against your lips before he pulls away and puts distance between you. His expression is full of worry, an apology already on his tongue as you stare blankly. His mouth is moving, but you’re not comprehending anything he says as your face burns. You can still feel the ghost of his touch as though it’s imprinted on your skin. 

Andrew is still rambling when you reorient yourself. “...and, if you’re completely done with me and this whole thing, I get it, and I won’t blame you for leaving. But I can talk to the tour manager, and maybe we can put you somewhere else? I’m sure Allison would love to have someone, and you wouldn’t have to see me or deal with me for the most part, and you could still work with the band because I know they love you. I’m just so, so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking doing that when I’ve been awful to you, I don’t deserve the kindness or patience you’ve extended to me, and I don’t—I’m sorry I fucked this up. I didn’t know what to do.” 

You swallow audibly. “Didn’t know what to do about what, exactly?” 

There’s the barest hint of a smile on his lips as he replies. “Feelings. Not great at ‘em. Obviously.” 

Annoyance buzzes along your skin, but you ignore it as you comprehend what he’s actually saying. “You…have feelings. For me.” It’s less a question and more a statement. 

“Correct,” he nods. 

“And your plan to deal with that was to bully me like you’re 12 years old?” 

He shrugs. “Wasn’t exactly a plan. More that it just…happened that way.” 

You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of this. Of him. 

“Jesus, Andrew. Did you want to pull on my pigtails while you’re at it? Grown-ass man…” 

You catch the shift in his expression—the way his shoulders relax just slightly, the way he allows himself a small, cheeky smile as he shrugs and replies. “More than happy to do so if you ask.” 

There’s something about that response—about the way he smiles at you, eyes crinkling in genuine joy and relief that you’re not shouting abuse at him or leaving the tour altogether—that spurs you forward. A rough tug on the lapels of his grey suit jacket clues him in quickly, and suddenly you’re pressed back against the dressing room door as he kisses you like a man possessed. Your hand automatically comes up to rest at the nape of his neck, unable to bite back a whine as his tongue slides against yours, as his hands grip your waist and threaten to slide up your shirt.

A banging sound reverberates through your chest, startling both of you until you’re springing towards opposite sides of the room. The door swings open, and a miserable-looking tech pokes his head in and points at Andrew with a frown. 

“You! We gotta go! Only a minute!” The tech is gone in a flash, the sound of his words echoing down the hall as he jogs back towards the stage. 

Andrew can only choke out an apologetic sound with a desperate flail of his hands, and you wave him off with one hand while the other covers your grin. “Go, go, go, we’ll talk later. Go be a rockstar or whatever.” 

He snorts, and you barely catch the, “Hardly a rockstar,” as he jogs out of the room. 

[robo-writing]

Can we please get a small one shot with Butch!Logan 😩 I need to know her strap game

Also gonna hijack your ask to drop butch!logan headcanons because i love her 🥹

The worst case of resting bitch face this side of the galaxy. It actually made it super difficult to tell she had a crush on you because every interaction felt like she was silently judging you. (She wasn’t, she was just incredibly nervous and didn’t know how to express it.)

She’s so BIG. BIG THIGHS, BIG ARMS, just BIG.

Again, body hair mention, but it comes in advantage because she’s so fucking warm. Winter’s her favorite season because it means you’ll stick to her like glue when it’s cold outside.

If you’re into makeup, she likes to watch you get dolled up, it’s the highlight of her day. She watches intently as you pull out a big fluffy brush—blush, right?—and gawks at you from the bed as your cheeks become bright and rosey.

You always offer to let her choose your look right before you go out on a date, and while she might not be well versed in color palettes you always make it work, and she loves that about you.

More than anything though, she adores when you let her choose your lipstick. Red’s her favorite, because it’s nice and obvious when you kiss her.

Logan gets a high whenever you ogle her body, she can feel her ego grow each time. Your nails scratching against her abs is a kind of joy she can’t compare to anything else in this world.

She also “accidentally” walks out of the shower nude. Notice the quotation marks.

18+ below

So again, I will die on this hill, the strap game is IMMACULATE.

If she wasn’t talented enough with her fingers and mouth, she wields a strap like it’s a fucking weapon

Likes to tease you with the head, barely stretching you open and yet you’re already shaking.

She’s so much bigger than you, so of course she has to have a strap the same size to compensate.

A solid 6.5 inches of pleasure, girthy enough that it takes some sizeable foreplay before you can even think about taking all of her.

If she’s feeling particularly cruel, she’ll make you lay across her lap and make you suck her off while her fingers massage your g-spot.

“Get me nice and wet honey, gotta make sure my girl’s comfortable, don’t I?”

Even with all that prep you still struggle to take all of it, and Logan’s there to make sure you do.

She knows your limits, and she knows you’ll be a good girl and take it.

You whine about how it’s too big, but it’s alright—she’ll get you used to it soon enough.

She’ll hold you by the neck if you squirm too much, mock you as she feeds your greedy pussy inch by inch, lick your tears clean off your cheeks when you cum just from her bottoming out.

“Why’re you crying doll? I haven’t even fucked you properly yet? Poor thing.”

Her thumb circles your clit in response, tutting at the sight of you whimpering at her touch.

“Don’t look like it’s too much to me,” she grins, watching your pussy grip down like a vice. “Seems like a perfect fit, huh honey?”

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓

Let's get this one off the ground! I'm very excited for some Christmas angst!

You get the first Eddie POV sneak peak!

102 for 🐓:

---

It’s not all bad. He has to look at it that way. It’s not all bad. At least he’s able to be here, close to his son. At least things aren’t worse. 

He didn’t end up buying a new place down here, before he moved. He didn’t want to miss Christmas. So he rented. Has a six month, short-term lease on a two bedroom apartment. First floor, for Chris. He did manage to sell the house back in Los Angeles. So he’s not hurting financially. He starts his new job with the El Paso Fire Department in January. 

It’s all fine. He’s lucky. He’s near his son again.

Not that that’s all smooth sailing either. If anything, it’s been mostly choppy weather, with the occasional let up. Something that Eddie wishes wasn’t so discouraging for him. But he’ll admit it. He’s fucking discouraged. 

At first, Chris had been happy to see him. Which felt amazing. He smiled and hugged him and told him he missed him, and for a moment, it just felt like Eddie had been gone on a long trip and was now home. Like maybe time really did heal all wounds and Chris was ready to be a family again.

Then Eddie told him he wasn’t leaving. 

It hurts a little. Eddie really was honest and raw with him. Fair, he thought. 

“I’m not expecting things to be changed overnight, I’m not expecting anything to be fixed,” he’d told Chris. “But I can’t continue to be where you aren’t. You’re my son. Home is where you are.”

“So you moved to El Paso? And got an apartment?” Chris had replied, face tight. 

“I did. Yeah. At least now we’re close, and we can-”

“Why would you do that?” Chris had demanded. 

“Why would I want to be in the same city, let alone the same state, as you?” Eddie replied, feeling frustration rising in his chest. 

Christopher’s face had gone bright red. Like Eddie had said something to embarrass him. He hadn’t.

“I don’t want you to be in El Paso. I don’t want to spend time at your stupid, sad apartment. I don’t want to talk to you!” Chris had shouted in response. 

And he hadn’t, for a bit, after that. Complete silent treatment, just like back in May and June, during the worst of it. Eddie panicked. Spiralled. Felt that he made things worse, all the while ruining what had still been good in his life. But after a brief pity party, Eddie remembered why he came here. To do whatever it takes to make sure the gap between himself and Christopher doesn’t get wider. So whatever. Chris can be mad. He can be silent. But Eddie is here. 

So Eddie had kept seeing him anyway. Fought with his parents about, and came to the resolution that Eddie gets two evenings with him a week, minimum. More if Chris wants, which… Well, maybe he’ll start wanting. Hasn’t yet, but at least he’s no longer silent. Quiet and grumbly. But not silent.

Each dinner or forced quality time activity seems to be slowly making a difference. Like crack by crack Eddie is getting through to him. But he honestly doesn’t quite understand why he has to. They’d been doing so much better. Why is Eddie’s proximity such a problem? Maybe… Maybe Chris really doesn’t want him around. Maybe he was calling Eddie or answering Eddie’s calls out of obligation, but really, he was done. Maybe he’s happier the farther Eddie is from him. Maybe all Eddie is to his son is a source of pain.

So being near Chris again makes him happy. But… But it’s not an uncomplicated happiness. It’s tainted. Tainted with the knowledge he might just be being selfish. That he might not be the best thing for Christopher, after all. 

And that is a sort of agony. 

All this to say, Eddie spends five of seven days a week alone. And even the days he does see Chris, it’s not the full day. It’s a handful of hours at most. Sure, he manages to spend a lot of time visiting Abuela when he can. But other than that, he’s on his own. It’ll be better when he starts working, he thinks. He’ll have a team again. They won’t be the 118 - no one ever could be. But maybe they’ll at least care about him. Right now, other than Abuela - who  is aging and doesn’t need Eddie’s stress - no one here really gives a shit about him. His parents have made that much clear. 

As Christmas draws nearer and nearer, Eddie struggles with the loneliness. He knows, in his core, that he’s miserable. He doesn’t want to say it out loud. Can’t call Buck or Bobby or anyone to admit it. That he’s done the wrong thing for himself. Again. It’s too… It’s too shameful. He’s always filled with so much shame. 

And honestly, maybe he could call Bobby. Bobby who is patient and full of grace and understands that shame better than anyone. Maybe he could even find a way to call Father Brian. He certainly can’t talk to the priests at his family’s church. He knows that from a childhood of bullshit. But… He really can’t call Buck. Not about this. Eddie knows Buck took him leaving hard, even if he tried not to show it. And now he sort of hardly communicates with Eddie at all.

[dykedvonte]

I just realized some people are confused about events in the alluded to past in Mouthwashing, particularly about how long the crew has been working together.

The only person who is truly new is Daisuke and it’s why his dynamic with the crew and role in the story is very unique and somewhat distant. Curly didn’t just get Jimmy this job on the Tulpar, he got him the job with the Pony Express. He’s been his copilot for probably a couple of years but still not as long as they’ve been friends. None of them are new with the freight industry, Anya and Swansea especially have been doing this for years, together.

Jimmy is the newest on the regular crew, maybe just a few assignments, but it’s not his first time working with them. I think it’s just something important because this isn’t just one bad mistake that snowballed with giving Jimmy the job. None of them thought Jimmy would do anything, no matter how off-put by him they could’ve been, since he hadn’t done a thing since being there. Generally unpleasantness isn’t a crime and he’d be aware of that.

It was a festering thing and a sort of forced trust they had to give him that he knowingly took advantage of. He was the black sheep and still a wolf under the wool. He expected when he lashed out, that he had been there long enough for it to be looked over completely. Got too comfortable in the space he inserted into and did a lot of damage with his claws when he felt he was going to get shaken out.

[simcardiac-arrested]

zavijava info PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!!! PLEASEEEEE ZAVIJAVA COME HOME ... PLEASE .... umm um um ill tell you about umm . tma au im making for nastya if u tell me about her .PLEASE!!!!!!!

so she is definitely a star of some kind. i mean she is an angel but in that story in particular The Stars are kind of angels. like they’re otherworldly beings and they jus kinda hang out. cosmically. it’s a different dimension separated from the human one but like, obviously stars still exist for humans, they just don’t do anything crazy because the rules of the world dictate that their realities shouldn’t interact. angels can observe the other world from far up above yet they still exist on a different level. But tbh zavijava had never enjoyed the otherworldly ethereal whatever lifestyle—she just didn’t feel like she fit in there. she is a #1 humans fan though so she knows that’s where she’d fit in. so she does just that. she fits in perfectly :) and normally :) yay :)

[the-brainrot-central]

Hot tip for teens: maybe don’t go to college straight out of high school, especially if you don’t know what you want to study, have zero work ethic, motivation, or desire to succeed, and no goals correlated to obtaining your degree to motivate you. Cus if you do, you’re gonna be pretty fucked.

[un-pearable]

whoops . i know i’ve gotten sufficiently emotionally attached to a series when just looking it up on the TV is enough for me to get lethally giddy and self conscious

[stonesandswords]

.

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

good lord my brain is running laps and i just wanna knock it out and get some goddamn sleep

[loderlied]

posting on here is like my sisyphean boulder i'm constantly rolling tbh

[what-even-is-sleep]

Trying to get ahead of an unsustainability cycle that might be starting up this week,,, (I start work).

[designernishiki]

You asked for a fic rec so I’ll toss this one at ya: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46767358?view_full_work=true Stick through the formatting for the characterization, tone, and really the whole vibe of this fic. I haven’t been able to get the bathroom call between Daigo and Majima out of my head for weeks since I read it with how naturally it all flows. My own little Daigo characterization booklet to review when I feel like I need a refresher on him.

so I may have stayed up until 6am reading this (would’ve slept earlier but I couldn’t stop reading it) and hgggahaghhhhaggahshhhhhhhh that was one of the most well-characterized fics I’ve ever read what the fuck. like the differences in how each character speaks (both tone-wise and in differing levels of authenticity) and how they speak to specific others (the daigo and majima dyanmic specifically- how they actually take into account how long they’ve been working really closely- SO good), the mental anguish and chaos vs the overwhelming emptiness of being daigo dojima but no longer The 6th Chairman Daigo Dojima……….I could keep going but I think you get it.

tbh I’d been wanting to write something exploring a similar set of dynamics/situation (post-kiryu’s fake death, interactions with haruka, daigo, and/or majima specifically, reflecting on his shortcomings while acknowledging the heavy Grief left behind) but now I’m like. well I still could but this was so well written in regards to daigo and haruka that, as far as something between those two goes, I don’t feel the need to.

thanks for the recommendation! my brain is broken now (affectionate)