#drafts

[punksrhea]

LIV MORGAN WWE Elimination Chamber, March 1st, 2025

[lee2go]

[dreamyydaisyy]

repost because I’m very lazy today 😴

[cretaceous-creature]

Edmontosaurus

For as long as I can remember, I have been a hadrosaur. I look at photos of hadrosaurs and see me and my relatives. I am no doubt a hadrosaur kin. But over the years, I have narrowed down my species, and I'm an Edmontosaurus regalis. Most likely, at least.

I have always had a basic idea of what I look like. I'm large (very large), little to no crest, and powerful legs. I lived in the cretaceous. There's quite a few hadrosaurids that match that description. I did eventually find I'm an Edmontosaurus. But it doesn't feel just right. I read that edmontosaurus was only 10 feet at the hip, still giant, but not as big as me. I don't think im another larger hadrosaur, as saying that doesn't feel right either, so possibly just a large 14 meter long 12 foot at the hip individual.

I think im an edmontosaurus for various reasons. Literally, everything about me is an edmontosaurus. I don't feel like i lived when any other hadrosaurids lived. Saying I did makes me feel a sense of discomfort. I have memories leading me to believe I was an edmontosaurus, like being in a massive herd whilst it rains.

I actually realised back in August 2023, but I unconfirmed it after a while for reasons I forgot.

So, I guess this is me announcing I'm an Edmontosaurus.

• DMNH71122 crimson

[karvokr]

you thought it’d be funny.

send a blurry pic. some guy’s hoodie in the background. a drink you’d never order. “don’t wait up <3” texted to toji's phone hours after you told him you were out with your friends.

he doesn’t reply. doesn’t call. but he’s waiting when you come home.

and you barely get your coat off before he’s got you pinned to the door, one thigh shoved between yours, hand curled around your throat– reminding you who you belong to.

“whose fucking house?” he grits out, voice low, dangerous. you giggle. wrong move.

he drags you to the couch. bends you over the armrest. pulls your panties aside like he owns the right. and when he slides in– slow, just to make you squirm– he doesn’t let you move. not an inch.

“wanna act like a whore?” he growls into your ear, “then take it like one.”

and you do. you take all of it– bruising thrusts, filthy words, the sharp smack of his hand on your ass when you whine too loud. he doesn’t kiss you. doesn’t let you cum. not until you’re crying a little, nails digging into the couch, gasping “i’m sorry– it was a joke– toji, i was joking–”

“you think i didn’t know?” he laughs. dark. rough. mean. “you wanted attention, huh? you got mine. take it.”

and then he fucks you. really fucks you. like he’s carving his name into your cervix. like he wants to be the only thing you feel for days. he grabs your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to look at him. “bet he wouldn’t fuck you like this. bet he wouldn’t know what to do with a little brat like you.”

you're clawing at the couch, pulling up loose seams in the fabric, desperately trying to pull yourself away from him. “nah, stay right there. don’t fuckin’ run now.” his grip on your hips turns brutal, bruises already forming on your waist.

and when you start to cry, tears running down your cheeks from how hard he's pounding into you?

“aw, now you’re sorry? you don't even know what sorry means yet.”

[rs-hawk]

Working on my novel and couldn’t figure out why it felt so empty. I didn’t have any filler. It was all 100% plot. The characters only interacted when necessary. I didn’t prattle on about the scenery or how the birds sounded. I had all my fuller stuff that I loved saved in another file because I “didn’t need it”.

Y’all, I knew this existed in TV shows but it didn’t hit me until this that everything is being whittled down. We are so starving for filler that we snap up anything. I unload all mine on Tumblr or keep it in a massive Google Docs. It SUCKS.

Honestly? Death to plot necessity. Revive filler. Revive unnecessary interactions. Revive just vibing with characters sometimes. I don’t want to just consume the plot and I don’t want to just create the plot either.

[imjusthella-gay]

“you’re so mean to me “ yeah and you get off to it what’s your point

[princesscutiefawn]

found this in my drafts lol

[inkpotsprite]

Snippet from my "Bruce gets his kids early AU."

[likesomeoneinlovee]

𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐞𝐭

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader

Summary: Joel jerks off to the knowledge of you taking a bath after waking up with a hard on.

Warnings: Male masturbation, pervy ass Joel, you are unaware that the horny old man is jerking off! Joel calls himself daddy, [ Under water ] Unprotected PIV, No foreplay no nothin just straight up fuckin’. Dirty talk. No beta, ya girl dont got TIME!

A/N: This has been rotting in my drafts so I just thought I’d wrap it up and post it while im sleeping over my grandmas 😒 ALSO IK I JUST POSTED DAMN.

Wc: 2,070

Joel didn’t remember falling asleep like this.

How the thin sheet he had wrapped himself in now formed a tent over his thighs.

Oh, fuck. 

Morning– or, I guess for him it was afternoon wood. Off from work the idea of a nap sounded mouthwatering for once, the way his back sunk into the mattress no matter how firm it actually was. Feathery softness of the pillow behind his head. He hadn’t even bothered to much as wash his hands let alone take a shower.

Now aware, sentient his mind came to that familiar feeling of the need to plunge his cock into his fist. Shaft sticking straight up with his tip pushed against the cotton of his briefs. Leaking.

“Goddamn– fuck.” 

It wasn’t ideal. 

Neither was the dewiness of the sweat that had seeped uncomfortably into his skin. A musk that steamed off of him. 

He threw his legs over the side of his mattress, running worked fingers through his greying curls. Fuckin’ inconvenient. His palm slapped down onto the back of his phone that slept face-down on his end table. Picking it up to check the time. 

2:44 PM 

Before he left for work it was almost as if he could still hear your sweet voice telling him you were going out with your friend ‘til three. Sixteen minutes until you were back home. Sixteen minutes to jump into the shower and fuck himself. Unfortunately in the literal sense.

He popped up from his bed with a long rumbling moan that followed. 

Jesus Christ. He was fucking hard.

It was a heavy footed march towards the bathroom– out his door. Down the hallway. To the door on the right. 

The door was closed while he remembered leaving it open. Not that it mattered. Honestly he was so fuckin’ screwed right now he didn’t know his left from his right let alone when or if he actually closed the bathroom door.

He was just about to turn the knob when he heard something.

The grinding squeak of the faucet.

Water pouring out into the tub. Slapping against the pearly porcelain.

Just his fucking luck.

It would figure you’d be home now outta all times. It was out of the ordinary for you to actually come and leave the time you said you would. Joel got lucky sometimes. The days you actually did so.

Today, unlucky. More than usual. 

All the while you were meandering around the bathroom. Looking through every cupboard and drawer for things a fifty-seven year old man would never EVER store in his bathroom let alone go out of his way to buy.

But then one pull of the cabinet underneath the sink you saw it, the holy grail of this old man’s bathroom. One singular, milky white bath bomb. 

Oh my god. In a home like his it was as if you were a miner who had struck diamond. A rarity, absolute gem. 

You picked up the round chalky bulb within your palm, bringing it over to your bath. Using your pointer as a thermometer to check the water. Hot, steaming. Perfect. Stripping yourself from your clothes as you stepped into the tub one leg at a time. Soon enough it was your full body swimming within. Dropping the bath bomb in, biting your lip down to contain the ecstatic smile on your face as it fizzed.

Blissed.

Joel heard all of this. 

Shocks wracking to his cock just at the simple sound of the clanks of your belt as it dropped to the tiles of the bathroom. 

The water of the tub swishing back and forth as you sunk in. He could only imagine the sight. How much harder he’d be if he got to saw you slippery and wet, your naked body glistening with the hot water of the tub, face flushed from the warmth.

Fuck he’d give anything.

For weeks it was you in his dreams. The girl makin’ his cock stick up every time he woke up. At first the thoughts would make his stomach sink, chest tightening at the thought. He was sick. 

He was still sick. Although, he didn’t have the energy to be ashamed. 

He moved closer to the door as his breath hit the chipping, white painted wood. His hand moved down to squeeze his dick pulsing in his boxers. Gripping it, fuckin’ hating it for the ruthlessness. The cruelty. 

“Oh, baby.”

Whispering to no one as he pulled himself out of his boxers. His tip drippin’ with precum. Eyes screwed shut. Joel Miller was a sore fucker to in his head to tell you how he felt. Although he could easily bounce his fist up and down his stiff cock as you washed your pretty body that he spent his free time watchin’. Craving. Only separated by the door between. 

“Fuck. Makin’ daddy’s cock so damn hard you don’t even know.”

Moving lips pressed against the cold door. 

“You don’t even know, babygirl.”

No, you didn’t. And if this man wasn’t such a pussy those unspoken fuck-feelings that you damn well both felt for each other wouldn’t have to be so unspoken. 

He could tell you. He could tell you how you were gettin’ him harder than any disgustingly vulgar porno could get him. Than any pill he could swallow dry to get his dick workin’ again. The thought of you his own personal Viagra without needing to consume anything. 

The mind was a powerful thing. 

His fist pumped. Sloppy with himself as he had no need to go at a pace that made sense, that had that rhythm. He didn’t need to give himself that. Twitching as his bulbous head sputtered out slick that trickled down the length. 

His throat was tight as his hips jerked. Fuck fuck fuck. Pushing the tip of his cock into the door, already so close as if he had any need to control himself as he was trying to get this done. Get the job finished so he could go back to normal.  

Gaudily clutching, hugging his fat dick with his fist. His hips stuttering til–

“Oh, f–fuck–!” Too goddamn loud.

The hand that he had braced against the thick trim surrounding the door now palm his mouth. Oh this was really stupid. He was making it even stupider, riskier. 

If he continued to hold this sounds deep within his throat it’d explode. Or– at least it’d feel like that. His balls were drawing up, tightening uncomfortably taut. His pace slopping, slowing as ever quick yank and pull turning into a long, drawn stroke down the length. 

Another bubbled up. This time as he reached that peak. Cumming into his palm. Opaque seed spitting out onto the door.  

“Sweetie. Fuckin–!”

“...Joel!?”

The curses were the most obvious, seemingly too ashamed to really drive home those so-very-cute pet names as he moaned. 

You knew the sound of a moan, though. Maybe you were young but you weren’t a fucking dumbass. The sound of a male orgasm was much different than that ‘I stubbed my toe’ type groan. Even yell.

He felt his cheeks heat up instantaneously. He had no more excuses left in him unless he were to sputter meaningless claims. Begging you to believe he had just stubbed his toe on the bathroom door.

Aftershocks still running through his body in waves. Panting like a dog. Sweating like a pig.

You were basking in the warm water. Your heartbeat took quickly to picking up. Joel Miller. The man old enough to be your fucking father standing outside your bathroom jerking off to the little splashes of the water? Imagining your naked body on the other side.

And you. You were just a girl after all. Couldn’t help the curiosity that pumped in your veins.

“Joel, come in!”

He’d hesitate. How could he not? His breathing still ragged. His cock had hardly even gone soft. But goddamn if he didn’t see you he knew he��d absolutely be killing himself. Turning the knob like heaven was on the other side of it. —For him, it was even better than that. More exciting than eternal life.

The door was kicked open as he singled you out. Staring. Your body was slick as the lighting from the window sheened over your body. He was in there quick. Ripping his briefs off his thighs. By five seconds his cock began to stiffen again. Your tits glazed with the bubbly, soapy water that filler the bath. The normally clear bath water milky, fizz bubbled to the top from the bath bomb that had evaporated as Joel worked himself to his orgasm.

You’ve got his body overworked and you haven’t even touched him yet.

So worked up he forgot he even had his flannel on as he got into the tub. Water that just barely reached the top spilling out onto the tiles, he’d have to wipe that after. The thick fabric of his shirt clinging onto his skin like a fuckin’ lifeline. Hugging the soft muscle.

Stiffed. Once again stiffed. Slapping up against his belly as his hands gripped at your thighs.

“Joel—“ You’d mewl, your fingers digging into his shoulders. He had you.

“This pretty pussy. I ain’t never fuckin’ seen her before.

Why you been so cruel, huh?” He was rambling.

He pushed his head into you. Seeing you stretch out, getting used to the feeling of his tip first. Then he’d slowly let himself sink into your cunt. Gripping your thighs, his hips spasmed.

“Joel!” Another moan. Desperately clinging to him, wet hands placed on his fabric-covered shoulders.

“Got me jerkin’ off out there like a fuckin’ teenager.”

He whimpered, his pace already taking no time to quicken, expeditious and brisk. The man wanted to fuck you senseless. Taking your lips to his, pushing his tongue down your throat. Every moan between the two of you vibrating between your lips. Joel’s cock plunging in and out.

In. And. Out.

Rutting into you with every fiber of his fuckin’ being. He never felt a girl like this— so good, so beautiful and so fucking tight.

Joel Miller has never been so fuckin’ pussy-whipped.

The water of the tub was splashing, spluttering, it was messy. It was quick. Yet he knew afterwards, once the aftershocks yet again dissipated maybe he’d fuck you again. And again. And again—

“God— Fuck yes, Joel! Right there. Right there.”

Nibbling his neck every time his head curved up to kissed that soft spot that made you wanna squeal.

“Daddy’s gonna fuckin’ fill this sweet little cunt.”

He’d moan

“Fuck you S’good.”

His brain was mush. The filthy fucking words uttering from his lips weren’t ones he necessarily put thought into— or, better yet. He put none at all. His thrusts were getting tighter, rigid. His stiffy painful with every clenching, the contraction of the muscles in your hole.

You felt your climax right there. Right. There. Every time his fat dick carved a line right on your cervix you’d cry again, your fingers clawing, ripping down the fabric of his now soaked flannel. He was so practiced. Intently watching the contortions of your face. Your pelvis blew with the intensity of your orgasm, panting into the side of his neck, feeling that familiar euphoria you had always found by the touches of your own hand.

His peak followed close. Spilling his semen into your cunt shamelessly filling you to the brim. He didn’t fuckin’ care about the risks. Not now, definitely not now. All he cared about was how good you felt around him, deep within the hot water of this tub. His tub.

“Oh fuckin’ shit. Baby.”

Momentarily you felt as your eyes would roll back into your skull at the feeling of his cum being beat into your cunt, your orgasm forcing ecstasy making you smile against his neck. His hand braced on your belly, feeling the heat and tightness in your gut settle now that it was all done.

All done?

Miller’s been waitin’ months for this, ain’t no way in hell you were all done. He was gonna make you feel it again. Feel all of it again. Once, twice, three times over— all until you’re squirmy, all until you’re beggin’ him to let you take that breather.

“I fuckin’ love this pussy. Can’t get enough.” He’d drawl.

His face buried into the crook of your neck. Tongue flicking in light, lazy kitty-licks against the skin.

This’ll be lasting til’ the water’s cold.

[orangexmachina]

I love how in most of star trek the cmo does not belong on the bridge yet they will be there and they will have invented a reason for them to be there. ds9 is just straight up like "julian is a gossip who gets bored easily. he is here to talk to dax about kira's love life. he is here because the infirmary is dull. he likes hanging out with his friends." honestly a great call. brilliant characterisation.

[caitlynsrighteye]

Ex!girlfriend caitlyn misses you

She fucks her fleshlight to the thought of you.

Your moans the bounce of your tits while you pinch ur nipples. Riding while she thrusts her hips up.

The thought of ur lips wrapped around her, kitten licking her tip driving her crazy.

The toy squished between 2 pillows while she thinks ab fucking u from behind

Her face pressed into her pillow while she fucks the shit out of her toy, remembering the feeling of your smaller body underneath her, ur pussy at her disposal.

On her back, out of breath, soaked in sweat in her dark room in the middle of the night

Her phone screen lights up

A text from u... and photo.

A pic of u laying on ur bed, naked, fingers teasing ur clit with a text saying "i miss u"

Even when ur no longer together shes still wrapped around ur pretty little fingers.

[monettt]

Rare 🍬

[doesephs]

had this in my drafts since time immemorial hashtag 2babydaddies

[karvokr]

pro gamer!choso who begs you to let him teach you how to play valorant… only to end up three fingers knuckle deep inside you the second you queue into a competitive match for the first time.

he begged. literally begged.

“please,” he said, all puppy eyes and his chin on your shoulder, “just one match. i’ll be good. i just wanna show you how to play comp– see how much you've learned.”

you gave in. of course you did. how could you not, when he said it so sweetly, lips brushing your neck, voice soft like it wasn’t part of a plan?

and now? you’re barely ten seconds into the first buy phase and he’s already inside you. three fingers, no warning, wrist pressed snug against the curve of your thigh like he’s done this a hundred times. like he’s trained for this.

his headset’s about to fall off of your ears from how much you’re moving. your hand slips on the mouse. he just breathes out a low, wrecked “fuck, you’re so warm…” and curls his fingers again like it’s your fault he couldn’t wait.

you try to say his name. try to focus. he bites your shoulder.

“keep playing,” he mutters, breath shaky. “you can do both.”

you cannot do both.

your screen flickers as your agent falls to the ground– killed. shot by the other team while you stood in mid, unmoving, because how were you supposed to figure out how to get behind cover when you're so FULL of him.

he's the worst. coach. ever.

but you’re pretty sure no one else is cumming mid-match, so. silver linings.