#MAYBE WRITE A LIL DRABBLE

[tonycries]

So RCT Red keeps Gojo perfectly healthy at all times, right? Replenishing, replacing, and replacing everything that he needs to survive and function? Welllllllllllllllllll, that would include his sperm count right??? The average dude refills his balls daily (a major oversimplification but we aren’t going over biology major shit rn), but RCT keeps Gojo’s balls constantly replenished 👀👀👀👀 never ending cum 👀👀👀

OR IT GOES TOO FAR AND GOJO *HAS* TO CUM A CERTAIN AMOUNT OF TIMES PER DAY SO HIS BALLS DONT HURT FROM THE EXCESS AMOUNT OF CUM!!!!! He gets obsessed with you, and has to picture you to get off but then being around you makes him more horny which makes his body think “need to make more sperm” so he has to drain his balls even MORE frequently to you and it’s making his obsession worse and it’s all delicious

Nonnie....nonnie are you saying Gojo with a never-ending amount of boners daily?

NONNIE ARE YOU SAYING GOJO WITH A NEVER-ENDING AMOUNT OF BONERS DAILY- 😩😩

[zevrra]

thinking about (s1)vander today…how he probably loves cuddling. especially in the mornings when he first wakes up, still half asleep, grumbling a ‘good morning’ while pulling you into his arms even tighter.

or how he probably loves it even more when you wake him up with morning head. pulling him out of whatever dream he was having, just to find you under the covers, kissing down his stomach. following his happy trail like a guide to what you truly desire. he’d lovingly place a large hand on the top of your head, caressing you gently as you strip him of his boxers and get a full view of his morning wood. listening to him groan the second your hand wraps around his thick shaft. you press kisses into the angry red tip, glancing up through your lashes at the disheveled man.

“just couldn’t wait, huh?” he’d grumble but not as a complaint; he would never complain about this. not when your mouth replaces your hand and wraps around the head of his cöck. not when you looked so pretty doing it too. he’d simply pull your hair back and watch with an intense gaze as you did what you wanted.

oh and how he fucking loves it when you get all messy and sloppy with your blöwjöbs. turns him on to no extent when you make sweet, pitiful noises while gagging along his shaft. spit dripping down your chin as tears cling to your cheeks. he’d grunt and groan softly at your handiwork, never taking his gaze off of you. all it does is feed the fire burning in his lower abdomen.

[sammybeann]

Dean bored and feeling curious one drunken night deciding to browse a hook-up app dedicated to finding someone with similar kinks and fetishes.

Dean expecting to get a couple of laughs out of the ordeal, and if he was lucky; a woman who'd let him piss on her or something. He liked it freaky from time to time, so what?

Dean getting the shock of his life when he finds the profile of a familiar floppy haired, doe eyed boy looking to meet up with an anonymous masked man for a one time hook-up.

Dean initially repulsed, setting his phone down for a good hour afterward.

Dean having another beer, repulsion turning into curiosity turning into taboo need. Dean sending his baby brother a message under a pseudonym.

Dean knocking on the door of a motel room across town Sam rented 2 hours later, ghost face mask hiding his features.

Dean with his pants around his ankles and baby brother lips wrapped around his cock, sloppy and inexperienced and so, so fucking good.

Dean heading back to their shared motel room afterward, hiding the mask under his mattress as he waited for Sam to come home. Sam who had been out at the after-hours library doing some research while Dean remained at the motel with a 12 pack of Pabst, starting this entire endeavor.

Dean asking Sam why his cheeks are so red and his lips so puffy when he walks in at 4 in the morning, blanket covering the erection that had already stirred to life seeing his brother again.

Dean never breathing a word of this to Sam, who still didn't know it was his big brother's come that still lingered on his taste buds.

Dean messaging Sam again the next day, asking what mask he should wear next time.

[ghostchems]

hi. we aren’t talking about THIS enough

[magnoliasforyourmedic]

Whenever things aren’t too busy the boys will go to Gene when they need something sewn, like holes in their clothing or reattaching patches. They know how to do it themselves, but Gene’s got so much practice that by the time he’s done you can’t even tell the clothing was damaged in the first place. He does enjoy it and takes his time with this sort of needlework, falling into a slow and smooth rhythm because what’s the rush? It gives him something constructive to do with his hands and it feels nice to breathe new life into something without all the blood.

[mymreaderlibrary]

Male reader/ character x Natasha Romanoff

I’m a simple man, I imagine Natasha being her normal badass self while also dating the most generic “just some guy” kinda dude and I am happy.

(Note: I wrote this in the middle of the night with no spellcheck or beta-ing so I’m sure there’s lot’s of mistakes n nonsense).

I’m picturing her at a party for Stark Enterprise. It’s massive, packed full of rich people who favor their status among all else. She blends right on in and spends most of the night dealing with small talk and trying to watch out for suspicious activity (you can never be too safe).

Picture her frustration when Tony decides to hound on her with some chatter despite his awareness of her job/ purpose. He makes jokes in typical Tony fashion, pressing buttons and somehow finding a way to keep even the most boring of topics going. But then he pauses, just for a moment however long enough for Natasha to notice.

He picks up her left hand and twists it lightly to look at the silver band on her ring finger. It’s nothing extravagant, in fact it’s a little cheap, but unless she was playing the role of a random married woman she had no reason to be wearing it. Unless���

To Natasha’s dismay Tony does not let this topic go, trying to trick her with loaded questions in hopes of finding out who gave it to her. He already knew she’s not playing a role, this is supposed to be an Avengers filled Stark hosted event, why the hell would she be undercover? He also knows she’s not wearing it to deter unwanted attention from unbearably persistent men because she had never struggled to send them on their way before (either with the cocky impression that she’s just a tough nut to crack or the realization that she had murder in her eyes specifically directed at them).

So again… who gave her the ring? Is she married? Engaged? Just dating and this is an anniversary gift? Tony can’t help but feed his own ego after he gets her to accidentally admit it was from her fiancé. A man Tony, or well none of the Avengers, seemed to know.

Perhaps he was a fellow agent, secretive and well trained in hiding in the shadows and assassinating political opponents. Or maybe he was a merc for hire who was just too busy to stay in one place as he got called for jobs around the world. Or better yet the Avengers DID know him it was just that he and Natasha were able to keep their relationship completely under wraps even during chaotic missions. The way she kept dodging the answer made Tony’s imagination spiral.

However it turned out, a much less exciting answer was the truth. A basic man, a civilian who worked at a mom n pop shop and only met Natasha thanks to a pub crawl had saved up the cash he had to buy her that ring. A man with no special talents or double life. A man who’s only scrapes and cuts came from the claws of his over excitable cat. A man who she had apparently been dating for almost 2 years without anyone knowing. A man who Natasha did not offer up the name of to Tony no matter how hard he tried to coax it out.

Her fiancé, someone she clearly loved too much to involve in her dangerous life.

That thought reluctantly made Tony back off for the night, but he still insisted that he meet this guy or at the very least see a picture of him. Natasha regretted telling Tony but she couldn’t find herself regretting wearing the ring. She deserved at least that amount of autonomy in her life, the pride of a gift.

[gothsuguru]

remember when i said i’d do my smut drabbles for Halloween . well i’m a Liar who Lies 🩷

[iwaasfairy]

so we all wanna see more uncle gojo huh

[mo-ok]

Ive drawn every day this week 👌👌👌 please enjoy the unnecessary amount of Go On RPM content (I cannot be stopped)

[imogenkol]

IMOGEN KOL — VAMPIRE AU 🩸🥀

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @marivenah @simonxriley @shegetsburned @voidika @v0idbuggy @kyber-infinitygems @inafieldofdaisies @statichvm @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @jillvalentinesday @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

Okay, Ari, I NEED TO VENT.

I am just OBSESSED with the vision of Suguru growing old, and maybe, if he wants to, having kids, like UGH how cute is that?

And he would look SO GOOD TOO.

Definitely one to grey late (not that it matters that much, but still, that's my vision).

AND JUST UGH he'd be so loving towards everyone – his partner, his friends, his children (the girls and any other if he has any), dogs, cats, birds, whatever

Now I'm just going to go into a little corner and cry.

REAL ASF OF U ANON ‼️‼️‼️‼️ i think abt this all the time too……. sugu w gray hair is just 😵‍💫😵‍💫 JUST……. sooooooo attractive it hurts. ohhh he would be such a silver fox…… i’m obsessed

AND OFCCC HE WOULD BE SO LOVING AND CARING <3333 i think he mellows out and matures so much with age …. his devotion turns into something so soft and grounding. 🥺🥺 i need him so bad he would be the BEST husband i won’t take any criticism….. personally i don’t rlly see him having any biological kids BUTTT HE WOULD TOTALLY ADOPT NANAMIMI and a bunch of kitties :333 maybe a dog too …… and ofc he would just be the sweetest papa ever!!! T—T he rlly is just. so full of love. i think he becomes so much more open with it as he ages and it flows out so naturally. he’s a lover he’s a father he’s the only man ever <33

[actual-changeling]

It's not that she isn't scared.

She is. She is absolutely terrified, but she also knows what it is like to be terrified and alone, when fear paralyzes her and she is pushed to the center of the world and swallowed whole. No one comes to save her, no one steps between her and the hands clawing at her.

Well, no one did.

Gunshots echo in her ears, and while she isn't hurt, dizziness is a blurry layer in her vision, and she is pretty sure the seat belt left a nice straight bruise right across her chest. Unimportant, though, considering there's still a bunch of people shooting at them, and with her breaths coming too quickly and shallowly, it's hard to see through gaps in the doors and windows without feeling like she will topple over.

Distantly, she is processing what Joel is telling her, do what he says, stay quiet, crawl into a hole, don't come out, and it all makes enough sense to quietly nod along. Her side is pressed against the cold metal of the car, her knees hurt even though they shouldn't, and Joel is so close that the heat radiating off of him in waves is like sunshine on her skin. Ellie is scared, terrified, but he is right next to her, and somehow that makes her fear meaningless.

"Look at me."

Joel's words cut through the rushing noise in her ears, and her gaze locks onto his face, clinging to the oddly familiar shade of brown and concern that leaves her aching. Outside of Riley, no one has ever given a shit about her, not like this, not ever, yet he looks at her like she is worth something.

"They're not gonna hit you," he breathes, knuckles white around his rifle, and there are about a dozen reasons why he is lying, why that statement is nothing but a hopeful prayer directed at a god that has long stopped listening.

Ellie nods regardless, absently realizing amidst the shots and shattering metal that she might be scared, but it is not for herself, not anymore.

"You stay down, you stay low, you stay quiet," Joel continues, unblinking, and there is something in his eyes that leaves her breathless. Everything inside of her is screaming to stay next to him, to not move unless someone grabs her and tears her away from him, but he is asking her to get herself somewhere safe, and if that means he'll be able to focus better and not get shot, she can swallow her rising panic.

"Okay?"

"Okay," she responds, finally realizing what he actually meant.

It's not an unheard prayer or foolish hope; it's a promise.

They're not gonna hit you because he will not let them, and she might not believe in god or fate, but she does believe in him. As the world threatens to rip whatever is left of her life out of her, Joel steps in front of her and keeps her safe.

[lupine-trees]

glass panes & evergreens

[ a wip snippet from a non-magical au in which the boys are (begrudgingly, then not-so-begrudgingly) renovating the manor, which has fallen into disrepair, for reasons. harry has called draco on christmas eve. ]

word count: ~458, unedited.

“Potter?” Draco reached blindly for his bedside alarm clock, squinting his eyes into the dim digital numbers. 11:47.

“What is it? Is everything alright?”

“Oh. Yeah, all good. I was just thinking.”

Harry’s voice was soft and sleepy over the line, static rustling occasionally as he shifted the phone at his shoulder.

Draco wondered absently at Harry’s degree of inebriation. He yawned, stifling the sound, and rolled to his side, cradling the phone carefully to his ear.

“What were you thinking?”

Harry hummed, the noise rumbling straight into Draco’s chest. “Was thinking... about the ballroom.”

Draco ran an easy hand up through his hair, resting it behind his head. “Mhm,” he prompted.

“Thought... It’d look pretty. All done up for Christmas,” Harry murmured.

Draco stilled, the soft warmth of sleepiness wrapped heavy around him, a feeling not unlike grief knifing delicately into his side. He pressed his face to the pillow.

“It did.”

Harry was quiet a moment, only the sound of his slow breaths ghosting through the phone.

“Tell me,” he said.

Draco rolled to his back, eyes tracing through the nothing of the dark. “I loved the windows,” he began.

“At Christmastime, we’d draw back the curtains. The big velvet ones? And I would always wish for snow.” He imagined the myriad glass panes, stretched floor to ceiling, glistening with the soft white of flakes falling, fluffy, and sticking.

“Every year we would have an evergreen tree brought in. From the back woods. The needles would fall all over the floor as it was carried through the parlor.” Draco could see it in his mind, the sparse green trail, smell the scent of pine.

“We’d string it in tinsel. Hang candles in the boughs.” His mother pulling him, small and quick, gently away from the lit tree, a careful chastise on her tongue. “My mother let me pick the star. Gold, glittering. She always preferred silver.”

Harry mm-hmmed. “You look good in gold,” he murmured, the words coming slow, a breathy slurry. “Warm.”

Draco’s own breath caught, something welling in his throat, prickling at his eyes.

“You should sleep,” he said eventually. “It’s late.”

“‘M not tired,” Harry insisted.

“I am,” Draco said softly.

“Oh.”

The clock down the hall chimed, ringing out low in the quiet of the night. Twelve times. Midnight.

“Harry?” he whispered.

“Mhm?” came the muffled reply.

“Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” Harry mumbled.

“Goodnight,” Draco told him.

“G’night.”

Draco heard his breathing taper, slow, the soft sound of sleep. He flipped his phone shut quietly, returned it to his bedside table. The flat was warm, and he curled into his bed in the easy dark; it seemed though, in a hazy sort of way, bigger, emptier, than it had done before.

[quietlyblooms]

it's one of the worst feelings to have had so much muse and energy to write all day and then sit down, and it all goes poof!! like what do you mean poof -- i was gonna bombard people tonight :(((

[schattenmagier]

Closing Time // Drabble

Something was off about her today. That's what Wesley had noticed about his employee. His only employee. Lilli had zoomed out a lot today. Usually she is very focused, and paid attention to everything that was going on in the bar. She did react when she was addressed by customers, but after answering or fullfilling their order, went right back to staring at nothing again. Thankfully it was a slow evening, and most of the customers had already left, leaving glasses, and plates on their tables. And again, she hadn't went to clean up like usually. The former villain wasn't angry at her, of course not, just... concerned. He could just guess that it had something to do with her... secret escapades.

Oh, yes. He knows about her second life. Heh, the vigilante Schatten. It had taken him a bit to figure it out, but because he saw her almost everyday made it more obvious to him. He saw it in the way she moved, and especially in her eyes. He knows the eyes of a killer when he sees them. But Wes won't reveal it. No reason for that after all. He wasn't a villain anymore, and she... Well. She wasn't really trying to go for villains or heroes. While Schatten did annoy and played around with them, she usually hadn't had a killing intention towards them. Except when she was provoked. He knows that she had killed, but what her actual goal is was even a mystery to him. There were rumors, yes, but that's all there was. Actually, he even noticed that she had spread some of those rumors herself. Smart girl. Causing confusion.

A customer approached, asking her to make a drink, and while she did smile and nod, he can see that she was barely there. The woman still went to make the ordered drink though, so perhaps he was concerned for no good reason. Wesley went back to the kitchen, just to clean up a little, and turning off any kitchen devices for the night. And after a few minutes, he returns behind the counter... just to see Lilli still on the same spot. With pouring some alcohol into a glass. And pouring... And pouring. More than the glass can hold. It had already spilled over. But she didn't seemed to notice. Yeah, okay. Maybe his concern was justified.

With a sigh, the tall older man walks over to the smaller woman, and places a hand on her shoulder. Which makes her blink a few times before she finally tilted the bottle back upright.

" Ah- Shit- Sorry, Boss! I vas just- "

The barkeeper spoke, but then hesitates when she noticed she had accidentally slipped back into her accent. Quickly, to hide her mishap, she cleared her throat and gave her boss a sheepish smile.

" Sorry... I think I am kinda tired. Didn't really... slept well last night, heh... I uh- I will make a new drink, and clean that up in a moment. "

And before Wesley could say anything, she had already started to prepare the drink, finishing it rather quickly, before sliding it over to the guest. And without pausing again, she also went to immediately clean up the spilled alcohol.

Tired, huh? The former villain could imagine that if she is out all day as Schatten. He was also not sure if it was only that. One thing was obvious though... he can't let her continue to work like this. Not for today. So again, Wes let's out a sigh before his attention was on the few remaining customers. Sure wouldn't be to bad if they closed up shop a little earlier today.

" Aight, people! Down those drinks! We’re hittin’ the lights a little earlier today. "

A row of unhappy murmurs went through the bar, but everyone did as Archon said, and finished their drinks before paying, that had to be paid, and leaving. And to Lilli it was pretty obvious that he had done this because of her. Fuck! She should know better! Concentrate more! Especially if she is here! She can't always put this on being tired. Wesley was a smart guy, he might figure something out- Her eyes went to the old man, but he simply smiled and shrugged at her. And before she could say anything, he already started to speak.

" Listen, I know what you wanna say. But don’t sweat it, it ain’t no thing. Just go home grab some shut-eye, ya know? "

The barkeeper is silent for a moment, studying his face, before looking away, and letting out a sigh of her own. Well, didn't sounded like he had figured something out. Rather, it sounded like as if he was really simply concerned for her.

" Okay, Boss. "

Lilli mumbled, before pushing past Archon, to go grab her stuff and change into her motorcycle gear in the backroom. Wesley stayed back, and rather went to clean up the rest of the bar. Just cleaning some tables, and putting dirty dishes into the kitchen. He was mostly waiting for the vigilante to finish. But he can't but let his thoughts wander again. Wondering mostly if ever the time comes in which she becomes more honest with him. While he surely wouldn't say it out loud, he had started to see her as something alike to a daughter. Which had been mentioned by some guests as well. She hadn't liked that. Thinking back on her reaction made the man actually smile a little. Perhaps... one day she will take her masks off around him.

With helmet under her arm, the smaller woman returned from the backroom, just to sheepishly glance at Wesley again.

" Uh. I'm going now. "

Archon's attention was immediately at her. And seeing her sheepishly look at him like that... makes him feel somehow bad. Perhaps she was simply embarassed because of her mishap earlier.

“ Okay, Lilli! Have a good night then. And hey, be safe out there, alright? ”

His words made the woman hesitate for a moment. Be safe out there... He means when she drives home, right? Why didn't it sounded like that though? Lilli simply decided to brush it off though, and gave him a small smile, before exiting the bar.

" Of course I will. Good night... Wesley. "

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Excuse this extremely self-indulgent ask but. Sarah and the rebels (?) taking care of drunk Cinder/Alex

Sarah's POV of This Scene

cw: bad coping mechanisms, alcohol

"Cinder."

"Nnn..."

"Come on, you need to drink some water."

It was a little past 4 in the morning, and Sarah was busy being impressed that the assassin had managed to walk all the way here in this state, much less remember which was the correct doorstep to collapse on.

Impressed, and more than a little concerned.

Attempting to shake him awake or drag him inside seemed about as safe as poking a sleeping bear, so she'd instead grabbed a bottle of water and sat in the doorway, a foot or so out of his reach, and tried to get his attention.

So far, the man wasn't giving her much in way of response. At first she'd assumed he'd been caught in a fight, but once she'd crouched down she saw that the bruises on his face were old. And she didn't need super-senses to smell the booze on him.

"Cinder," she tried again, considering splashing some water on him. How wrong could that possibly go?

Still, she needed to get him inside before someone saw him, and she didn't want to have to wake Akeela up and make the kid deal with a drunk assassin. Maybe...

Shit, there was an idea.

Sarah stood slowly so as to avoid startling the killing machine on her porch, and made a beeline for the kitchen. She felt a little ridiculous putting the oven mitts on, but at least they'd offer a little protection if she scared him.

Back at the door came the next challenge: where was the least dangerous spot to poke a bear? If it were anyone else, she'd just tap on his hand or something, but would he even feel that? Touching anywhere near his face or torso would probably startle him. Well touching him anywhere was sure to startle him, but if he wasn't responding to her voice...

With fingers enclosed safely in an oven mitt, she took Cinder's hand. He didn't respond to that, so she pulled on it lightly. Maybe he'd feel it on his shoulder, and that would be enough---

She let go with a start when his eyes flew open, his metal arm bouncing onto the concrete with a sound like shaken coins.

Cinder didn't move though, and when his eyes started to drift back shut---

"Hey. Hey! Wake up."

"Why?" he mumbled.

Sarah let out a frustrated huff. Okay. She really didn't want to add to his anxieties, but if there was no other way...

"Someone will see you," she said. "You need to come inside."

And though his breathing quickened and the muscles in his throat tightened, it seemed to get through to him.

"Do you... want a hand?" Sarah said, holding one out as she watched him struggle to stand.

His eyes landed on the over mitt, gaze sharpening for just an instant. "Wh' the fuck is that?"

"Don't laugh at it," she said, though she doubted he was about to. "I'm just trying not to get burned."

"'M not gonna burn you," Cinder mumbled, pushing himself the rest of the way up and standing with his back pressed firmly into the wall.

"Okay. Well let's go inside. You can crash on the couch for now." She held the door open, following after Cinder as he made his painstaking way into the building. She swore she could hear him muttering under his breath---little rhyming phrases---but she didn't try and sharpen her ears to hear what he was saying.

Once he'd collapsed onto the couch, she again tried handing him the water bottle.

"Drink."

"Why?"

"I know you know what a hangover is."

"Doesn't matter."

"You aren't about to die of alcohol poisoning on my couch. Drink."

He clumsily snatched the bottle away, chugging it like he wished it were something stronger.

"Happy?"

"Yes." Sarah stood up and started to leave. He'd be fine down here, at least for the night. Should she get him a blanket? Put some more water next to him?

"Wait. Spyglass."

"Hm?" She stopped.

"Am... Am I safe?"

She turned back around. He was sitting up now, something like fear under the glazed over look in his eyes. "Safe?"

"He won't find me here?"

He. Uriah. Sarah nodded. "He won't." After a moment, she added, "We'll watch your back. Just get some rest, okay?"

He nodded, silent as he lay back down, his eyes slipping closed.

And if in a few hours he woke up and disappeared without another word, that was fine.

Right now, all that mattered to her was that she could hear his heartbeat slowing to a calm.

•°•°•

tag list:

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