#drabble post

[drabbles-of-writing]

My creative process is beyond understanding. It's also beyond any logical reasoning whatsoever

[scribblestatic]

I’m gonna hop around with the Venom Deku timeline a bit. Doing it in order and building up all that stuff like a story is a bit much for me rn.

Anyway, I’m thinking it becomes harder to differentiate Venom from Deku by the time he’s 10.

He still eats a ton of fish and fries and whatever else he can eat to fill the gnawing hunger. He hides it as much as he can from his mom now, knowing his food expenses are racking up after seeing her struggling with it one night when he wasn’t supposed to see. 

To take care of it himself, he decides to sneak out at night.

Leaves through his bedroom window and scurries over to a nearby forest. The hunger is crawling in his stomach.

Izukuuuuu.

“Yeah...”

They find a river. There’s bears in the forest and normal people would have to keep watch, but he’s not worried about that. He’s instead hoping to find good, delicious fish. He’s salivating so much, its running down his chin.

They crouch down by the riverside, Izuku’s eyes long adjusted to the darkness in ways normal people wouldn’t be able to without a quirk.

But he knows very well now.

He doesn’t have a quirk.

In the calmness of night, the fish don’t seem to suspect as much as they would during the day. They aren’t salmon, but they will do.

Izuku reaches his hand back, black ichor seeping from his skin as it forms something like a claw. He’s breathing heavier, feeling hungry, as his vision starts to swim and fill with colors he usually wouldn’t be able to see. Venom’s started covering his face, helping him see even better than usual.

Izuku strikes his hand out, and it forms several thin black spikes that pierce straight into 12 different fish. The ends of the spikes form hooks and lock the fish in place before he hurriedly pulls them out.

They’ve barely touched land before he’s eating one alive, skull and bone and all.

The brain isn’t the important part when it comes to fish, not really. The best part is the thick flesh, full of chemicals and juices that pour salt instead of water on the grease fire in his stomach. His nagging pain finally starts to abate, and the feverish feeling he’d started having went away with each fish he consumed.

It would be bad if he stole salmon. He was tempted too, since it tasted the best. But no one had anything against him eating wild fish. It was just the circle of life, wasn’t it?

Still...maybe he should be more careful.

He realizes that about a week later, when environmentalists notice that certain kinds of fish in the local area have been decreasing. They’re going to start looking for the cause.

...Don’t look.

He knows what Venom means.

He can feel his mom’s eyes on him as the environmentalist talks about how startling it is that local numbers have decreased so much. They talk about overfishing and advise nearby families to reduce their camping plans for the coming summer.

“...Izuku?”

He spills the beans almost immediately.

[v1x3n]

thinking about trueform sukuna who loves overstimulating you to the max. you're riding him - well, not really. your sat up on his cock but two of his hands are gripping your hips, bouncing you up and down furiously.

one of his cocks, the bigger one, stretching out your poor pussy. reaching so deep, your stomach bulges out, showing the shape of his mighty cock. his other cock wasn't as bulky or tall as the other one, but it was still bigger than any other mans. that one was stuffed tight into your puckered hole, filling you up nicely. you couldn't get away from the pleasure as sukuna forces you to swallow his length over and over again. taking him whole was a hard thing but with a bit of force, you could do it.

the tongue that slides out from his stomachs mouth, licks a wet glob of spit on your clit, lapping at the small bud.

you whine loudly, tears brought to your eyes. you squirm, trying to get away as your legs shake angrily. "what's the matter?" his soothing words would have been nice despite his mocking grin that plasters his sweaty face.

you mumble out slurred words, while his two free hands are attached to your boobs. grabbing, grasping and pinching the skin. your nipples already swollen from the clamps he had clasped to them earlier. slight red glows at your sensitive nipples. you mewl loudly, tears dripping down your chin as you moan repetitively. your legs shake with a violent pace.

cum lashing out from your pussy, dripping down his cock as you squirt all over him. the mouth on his stomach seems to groan at the taste, lapping it up. his hands bounce you angrier, desperate the take every drip from in you.

your messy hair wafts around, sticking to your skin slightly. sweat covers you as your body is worn out from the past hour. "su-hah!" you moan out loudly. eyebrows pinching together.

"take it." he groans out, head falling back in laughter and pleasure. a hand that grips your hip harshly moves up to your stomach, pressing down hard. you whine as spurt out more liquid. "fucken messy girl."

[swordymacaroni]

geto who smokes like its his biggest hobby, but you despise it. every time he kisses you, the bitter taste of tobacco leaves you wrinkling your nose and pulling away all too soon. you never say anything about it, but geto can sense your displeasure every time he reaches for a cigarette.

one day, he reaches into his back pocket for a routine smoke, knowing your eyes are trailing his every move. you expect him to shake out a cigarette, but instead he drops the pack to the ground and steps on it, eyes never leaving yours. you open your mouth to say something, but his lips cut off your voice.

he kisses you hard, his fingers tangling in your hair, his teeth pulling at your lips. his mouth moves against yours in such desperation  that you can’t help but gasp. he pulls you against his chest, so close that you don’t know where you end and he begins. he pulls back, violet gaze slipping over your hazed expression.

“i-your cigarettes?”

he runs a thumb over your cheek before he leans down to whisper in your ear. his voice makes you shiver when he says,

“i can only handle one addiction at a time.”

[madaqueue]

18+ MDNI - f!reader (nasty freak boy who cums too early...i love him)

virgin!satoru who thinks he’s going to die. genuinely, he thinks his heart is about to explode out of his chest and his last memory will be the way you stare down at him with those lust-blown eyes and that awe-struck smile. why else would he be shaking like this, covered in a layer of sweat and lightheaded to the point his vision is swirling?

“are you ready, satoru?” is the only thing he can make out above the ringing in his ears - how can he tell you he only has a few moments to live when your legs are spread like this and he’s so hard it fucking hurts?

virgin!satoru who is the farthest fucking thing from ‘ready’ but he’d rather die than disappoint you, so he’s at least got to try.

with an unsteady hand he swipes the tip of his cock up and down your slit, watching the way the light sparkles with how wet you are, for him.

“you can put it in, baby,” and he fucking groans, he can barely look at you when you talk to him like that, all syrupy sweet and thick and dripping.

virgin!satoru who finally, finally, pushes himself past your entrance. his eyes are locked on the way you swallow his length, the way he’s so hot he can’t breathe, can’t get enough air in because it all smells like you.

virgin!satoru who cums before he even bottoms out. he’s trembling and whining and it only gets worse when your hands find his shoulders and pull him into you.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, fuck-”

“it’s okay,” you coo, and he’s so fucking warm, and he’s grateful he can’t see the smile on your face because he thinks it might actually make his heart stop.

virgin!satoru who straightens his back, slowly pulls his cock out of you and watches in awe as his cum leaks down your thighs, who can’t stop himself from smearing it through your folds with his thumb, who doesn’t miss the way your pussy clenches as he does.

virgin!satoru who’s already hard again, who no longer cares if he’s dying because this must be heaven, who stares back at you with wild, unfocused eyes as he says, “i think…i think i’m ready now.”

a/n: i think i blacked out from lust writing this

[softaestluv]

Simon Riley who is just a little confused when he receives a drunk phone call from you one night, his sweet sergeant, hiccuping and giggling over your words— ‘Hi—Sir, could you come pick me up—up from the club? ‘m a little drunk.’

But he threw on his sweats anyways, was in his car without a second thought. Shoving random strangers out of the way as you clung to his bicep within minutes, trying his best not to push his arm deeper against your soft breasts and stomach.

When the two of you finally made it outside, he’s entirely too relieve to pry himself from your grasps, cool his burning skin in the fresh air. But when his focus finally drifts to your figure, scantily clad, irritation pulses his temples.

“Why the hell did’ya call me? You ain’t got any friends?”

You giggled, slurring over your words as you pushed to your tippy toes, leaning closer to his face, and crossing your hands behind your back.

“You’re my lieutenant, aren’t you? You’re supposed to take care of me.”

[deathofacupid]

gojo's relationship with sleep was… complicated. he seemed to view it as an optional activity, like flossing or paying taxes. you, on the other hand, considered sleep a sacred ritual, and dragging him to bed felt like trying to convince a hyperactive hummingbird to take a nap.

"psst," he whispered, loud enough to be heard in the next apartment. "hey."

you groaned, pretending to be a particularly heavy sleeper.

"hey," he repeated, poking your shoulder. you swatted his hand away, a silent leave me alone conveyed through the power of sleepy aggression.

"sweetheart. darling. my bestest friend. my favorite person in the entire universe. sugar-plum. chickadee. kitten-kins. schnukapussy."

"what?" you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

"do you want to play a game? like, a card game or something?"

"what?" you repeated, your brain still trying to process the concept of coherent sentences. "it's the middle of the night. why are you awake?"

"i'm bored. my brain won't shut up. it's like a radio stuck between stations."

"and you thought waking me up would fix that? now we're both going to be miserable," you grumbled, turning over.

"…so, about that game?" he asked, sounding genuinely hopeful.

you stared at him, resisting the urge to express your frustration with a well-placed pillow. "this is what happens when you eat a whole bag of candy before bed. you turn into a nocturnal gremlin."

he shrugged. "oops."

"don't 'oops' me. i'm trying to sleep."

"but you're awake now," he pointed out, with infuriating logic.

"that's not the point!" you sighed, pulling the covers over your head.

he gave you a look that said, "please? with a cherry on top?" and, against your better judgment, you caved. you sighed, pulling him closer. "fine. no games. but i'll do the hair thing. the one that makes you sleepy."

he settled against you, all warm and impossibly comfortable. "until i'm asleep?"

"yes," you said, keeping you eyes trained on him. "until you're asleep."

as you ran your hands through his white locks, he was out in minutes, snoring softly. you smiled, finally feeling yourself drift off.

then, just as you were about to fall asleep, your brain decided to stage a revolt. wide awake. you stared at the ceiling, wondering if you could convince gojo to share his ability to function on zero sleep. to say the least, this would be a long night.

[lapetitepatisserie]

cod × fem!reader ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

The familiar sound of keys in the door alerted you to your husband’s return.

“My love?” he called, looking for you, boots making heavy footsteps as he made his way towards you and your child. His eyes soften once they land on you and your baby girl.

“How’s my princess?” he drawls, voice deep with exhaustion from work.

You look down at the child sitting in your lap, occupied with trying to fit a chubby foot into her mouth. A steady finger reaches underneath your chin, lifting it to meet his warm, intense gaze.

“I’m talking about this one.”

[drabbles-of-writing]

I was always told as a kid that saying "a couple" of something always meant exactly 2, and for some reason little me always felt bitter about that? Anyway this is for 12yo me to see if they were justified in insisting "a couple" meant a small assortment of things.

[functionalechoes]

--IX

Game Over.

--TRIX

Game Over.

MATRIX.

between one nano and another the deep rumble of his designation (title? name?) clicks him online. Energy floods through his body and his limbs move without his input.

That's alright; his mind is too foggy to understand much of anything in the present. He doesn't know where he is. what he is. who he is.

His body moves to the script his code initiates.

It's not enough.

Game Over.

...

MATRIX

"E---!!"

there is something faint behind his name when he comes online this time. He doesn't know what it could be, but it resonates in his chest and calls to him to focus. To fight through the fog in his head, to get his bearings, and to think.

It's still not enough.

Game Over.

...

MATRIX

"EN--!!"

Has that echo always been there? How many times has he come online and gone offline to that ghost of a sound? It digs deep inside him, yanking and tearing at his memory with hopeless futility. He only knows what he needs to know: the User has summoned him to fight as it has so many times before and so he shall fight. It is his purpose and it consumes him fully.

"ENZ-!!"

The fight is lasting longer than usual. His scripted actions have begun repeating.

His face throbs with remembered pain. It's distracting.

Game Over.

ANDRAIA

[olailamajnoon]

Dick on the phone, at 3 pm in the afternoon: Forgive me father for I have sinned.

Bruce, just woken up, squinting at the alarm clock: Dick it's 3 pm. what is this.

Dick, tearfully: My confession! I couldn't sleep, Bruce. I was the one who drove my hamster to suicide! I didn't feed him malt cookies like I was supposed to! He climbed on the exercise wheel and didn't stop running until he died.

Dick: *continues sobbing*

Bruce: okay so first of all.

Bruce: I'm not a priest.

Bruce: And second of all. Animals don't commit suicide.

Dick: Mari did!

Bruce: You named your male hamster after your mother...?

Dick: NOT THE POINT, BRUCE!

Dick: but yes.

Bruce, sighing: There's so much to unpack here I don't know where to start.

Dick: I killed him, Bruce. I should have died along with him!

Bruce:...

Bruce: It's possible that you've associated your hamster's death with the trauma of your parents' death, possibly because of shared names, and you've displaced your survivor's guilt from the first onto the second.

Dick:...

Dick: So what should I do.

Bruce: In my experience, the best way to deal with survivor's guilt is to save as many people as you can, possibly people in the same situation as the loved ones you have lost, hoping that the heroic nature of your deeds lets you sleep at night.

Dick: And what if that doesn't work?

Bruce: Then you drink. Get shitfaced drunk every time you feel a pang. Or you can pray to a nonexistent god and an uncaring universe.

Dick:...

Dick: If I come over, will you break out the good whiskey.

Bruce: I thought you'd never ask.

[zephyrchama]

Demon brothers weaponizing their incompetence in the human world to get your attention. Your realm is sooo different to the Devildom, they need you to help them. These ancient and powerful beings are stumped by the incredible inventions of human ingenuity.

Or maybe they're taking advantage of you to monopolize your time.

---

Beelzebub, who had been using a fork just fine all day, suddenly forgets what it's for when you walk into the room. He fiddles with it in his hand and asks, "How does this human fork work?

You respond, confused, "It's the same as any fork? Literally the same as the Devildom, you just... stab the food and put it in your mouth."

"Belphie said human forks are different. You might have to feed me."

---

Asmodeus comes to you in a bath robe, which he managed to put on just fine by himself. "I don't know how human baths work, you'll have to take one with me!"

Belphegor's request is simple. He's already laying down, half asleep, when he grabs your wrist and demands, "Show me how the bed works."

---

"Lucifer, your brothers are driving me crazy again," you complain, having fled to the eldest's room for a moment of reprieve.

Red eyes peer at you from over the rim of his glasses. There's the faint curl of a smile on his lips. "Are they, now? Stay in here as long as you need."

[3hobbitsinatrenchcoat]

Non-writers also free to weigh in.

There is a correct answer here by the way. I am a drabble purist but I want to know what other people think about this beloved format.

[superbat-love]

Batman may claim to have no powers, but Green Lantern knows better. He’s convinced that Batman’s cape is sentient.

Green Lantern has observed it on quiet nights in the Watchtower, when Batman thinks no one’s paying attention. He releases control over his cape, letting it unravel and float menacingly around him in different directions. It moves on its own, sweeping across nearby surfaces, carelessly knocking over items.

There’s one thing Green Lantern knows for sure—Batman’s cape has a sweet tooth. Every time Batman passes the candy bowl, it’s mysteriously emptied.

Even stranger, it seems to influence other capes. Once, while Batman was talking to Superman, their capes briefly touched, and Green Lantern saw Superman’s cape come to life—swirling and fluttering as though it had a mind of its own. Superman, unfazed, didn’t even react to the way their capes were flapping erratically around them. Green Lantern was relieved he didn’t have a cape.

He told the others about his theory, but they were skeptical at first. They eyed Batman’s cape with suspicion as he was distracted by a mission briefing with Wonder Woman. But even the Flash had to admit Green Lantern might be onto something when Batman’s cape swiped their feet out from under them, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

Martian Manhunter nodded sagely and agreed on its intelligence, having felt the minds of four little beings flitting around underneath Batman’s cape. Maybe one day they’d feel comfortable enough to run underneath his cape too.

[1930sdarlin]

(Meme made by Me, @1930sdarlin )

[adddddiiii]

Jason Todd isn’t soft. He swears he isn’t. But when you shiver, even a little, his jacket is on your shoulders before you can say a word.

Jason Todd rolls his eyes when you cuddle up to him on the couch, but his arm always finds its way around you. Always.

Jason Todd grunts when you trace lazy shapes on his arm, like it annoys him to no end, but you feel his muscles go slack. He lets you. Doesn’t even notice when his head tips against yours.

Jason Todd will never admit he likes holding your hand, but when you let go, he notices. Glances down. Threads his fingers back through yours without a word.

Jason Todd looks at you like you've hung the stars, even if all you said was his name.

Jason Todd doesn’t do flowers or chocolates, but your favorite snacks show up in the kitchen, like magic.

Jason Todd always has something of yours in his pockets — hair ties, lip balm, a receipt from that store you love.

Jason Todd isn’t soft. God, he swears he isn’t. But when you look up at him and smile like that — like he’s something good, something worth loving — he just sighs. Runs a hand through his hair. Pretends he’s not blushing.