And number 32 is "I have read a very interesting book about it."
Yeah, both of them could have said that XD perfect quote for Nodia 🖤
So, a little thing, featuring Lydia, Nona @handsignals, Ronnie @woundedsoul12 and... Someone else @jenn2d2
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"I have read a very interesting book about it. No! Don't you make those eyes at me. I'm telling the truth."
Lydia frowned. It was past the midnight and Ronnie was already asleep. Who the hell was Nona talking to? She finished brushing her teeth and peaked into the bedroom: Ronnie was laying on the bed, sleeping like a log. No sign of Nona.
There was a light on downstairs and Lydia followed it to the kitchen. There she was: in her pyjamas, on her knees, talking to…
"Peanut? What is he doing here?" Lydia stood in the door, flabbergasted.
"I don't know," Nona turned to her. "I heard him… knocking? On the door? He had mud on his paws, so I'm taking care of it."
Lydia approached them, looking at the big mabari. He didn't look wounded, he seemed happy, he was just sitting there, giving Nona his paws to clean, wagging his little tail. And listening to her talking, with his head head cocked.
"I was just telling him that mabari were not bred for long distance," Nona stood up and tossed the muddy rugs into the kitchen sink. "But he seems like he doesn't care."
"Okay, I guess I'll call Gemma to pick him up, they're probably looking for him with Gladius," Lydia said and Peanut made a short, sad yelp.
"Or you can say he can stay with us and they can come pick him up in the morning?" Nona wasn't even in the middle of the sentence when Peanut took off and run upstairs.
They found him in the bedroom. Splayed on top of Ronnie, who didn't even wake up, just grabbed the dog like a big plush toy and embraced it.
Well, at least the bed was big enough for the four of them.
Darf ich mir die 5 von den Drabble Prompts mit Barbara/Karla bzw. Rabia (oder irgendeine Kombi mit den dreien oder zweien von den dreien) wünschen? 🥺👉👈
ohhh, das ist ein fantastischer ask!! natürlich darfst du, es ist mir eine ehre!
"Wait a minute... are you jealous?"
Selbst nach einer Scheidung war die verdammte Barbara Blocksberg immer noch perfekt. Perfekt angepasst an die Menschenwelt, perfekt integriert in den Hexenverein, dort sogar in stellvertretend vorsitzender Position. Und jetzt hatte sie eine Partnerin mitgebracht. Eine menschliche.
Es war die unsägliche Karla Kolumna, die aufdringliche Reporterin, die sich mit ihrem Enthusiasmus auch schon bei Walpurgia eingeschleimt hatte.
Widerlich, wenn man Rabia fragte, aber wer fragte sie schon?
Missmutig beobachtete sie, wie Barbara den Arm um Karla legte und lachte.
Maribor stieß sie mit seinem Katerkopf an. „Sagt mal, Herrin… Seid Ihr eifersüchtig?“
For the kiss prompts, could you do 'luring your lover back to bed with kisses', I'm a sucker for the domestic fluff potential of this prompt! No pressure, though 🩶
Thank you for the request dear, I had so much fun with it! 🧡
You're so right, this is basically screaming domestic adorableness.
I hope I'm doing the prompt justice!
It's nothing special, just something I came up with to get my mind off uni work, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
Inspired by regular ocurrences between my boyfriend and me :D
When Max wakes up, the bed next to him is empty and cold. Groggily he opens his eyes to steal a glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand Charles insisted on buying some time during the last summer break, when he was on an – admittedly short-lived – mission of cutting his screentime short and banning phones from the bedroom.
It’s 10:02 a.m., which Max supposes is a reasonable time to get up at, considering they’re in the first weeks of winter break, all work-related obligations still far in the future. While he’d been up gaming with Redline until the early hours of the morning, Charles had announced that he was off to bed shortly after dinner.
No surprise then that his boyfriend is up already, Max muses.
Upon slowly shaking off the last remnants of sleep he registers the faint sounds of a piano being played beautifully in the living room on the other side of the flat. Every once in a while, the melody stops, only for the last few notes to be played again slightly differently.
From the sounds of it, Charles is composing new songs again, which Max knows to mean he has his phone nearby in case he wants to record himself playing.
The thought gives him an idea. Max fishes his own phone from the floor where it must have fallen at some point during the night. He pulls up the chat he has with Charles and types out a message.
“Babe, I need your help :((“
He hears a soft ding from the other room, confirming his suspicion. A moment later the music stops.
The sound of a chair scraping, the gentle wooden thump of the piano’s lid being lowered, Charles’ hurried steps on the hardwood floors coming towards the bedroom and a door opening, and then his boyfriend appears in the doorframe.
He’s still in his pyjamas, his hair is messy like he hadn’t bothered fixing it after crawling out of bed and on his face there’s a worried expression.
“Chéri, what happened? Are you alright?”, he asks, eyes widened and scanning over his boyfriend and the room, as if he were looking for any sign of something being wrong.
Max almost feels bad for scaring Charles like that, but he supresses the urge to apologise in favour of putting on his best pouty face.
“I wanted to get up out of bed, but it seems like I don’t have enough energy”, he claims, hoping Charles will give into his puppy eyes like he always does. “I need a kiss”
The Monegasque rolls his eyes at his boyfriend’s antics but it’s clear he’s more relieved everything is alright than actually upset about the dramatic interruption to his morning.
“You’re impossible”, he snickers. “Alright then, one good morning kiss for my sleeping beauty, coming right up”
He crosses the space between the door and the bed and leans down to offer Max a kiss.
The Dutchman, however, has other plans. As soon as Charles is in his reach, he all but launches himself at his boyfriend and pulls him down on the bed with him.
“Gotcha!”, he laughingly whispers into Charles’ neck and then proceeds to pepper the skin there with kisses.
“Never call me childish again”, Charles deadpans, only managing to keep a straight expression for a few moments before he too erupts into giggles and escapes Max’ hold enough to properly press a kiss to his lips.
“’s not my fault you made me wake up to a cold and empty bed”, Max grumbles, attaching himself to the other man’s body as if he were imitating a koala clinging to a tree. “I’m keeping you here for at least another half hour to make up for that horrible injustice”
And although they both know it will most likely be at least twice that time, who is Charles to argue with his boyfriend’s line of logic?
Ladybug, Chat Noir, and cozy for the drabble game!
Honestly, they really should have called off patrol.
It was rainy and windy, not fully cold but chilly enough to be unpleasant. Especially when one's mode of transportation involved swinging by a yoyo above the rooftops of Paris. Her Ladybug suit may provide protection from injury, but it wasn't the best insulated thing. What she wouldn't give for a cuddly oversized sweater and her room above the bakery right now.
But Chat had just seemed so off lately. She wanted to ask him what was going on. No details, secret identities must remain secret and all, but her partner really looked like he could use a friend. So here she was, ducked under the eaves of a neighboring roof to protect a bit from the elements. It was rare she got to the meet up location first, usually running late, but she had made sure to be a little early today. She just hadn't planned on the weather.
A shadow darker than the dreary sky darted into sight a building or so over. With a small wave, Ladybug caught Chat's attention. He dashed over to join her under the semi-protected part of the roof.
"Early for once, Milady?" he teased. "I mean, it had to happen once statistically."
She shot him a glare that was at best half-hearted. "I know, I know. Poke fun at the chronically late."
He chuckled, brushing some of his damp hair off his face. "I promise it's okay, LB. One of my best friends is also always running late. She tried to explain how it happens that she can try to get somewhere hours early but still always ends up at least ten minutes late. Not sure I followed the explanation fully, but it honestly doesn't bother me. Besides, you're actually here."
"Thank you. I still feel awful about always being late though," she replied, shifting her weight from one leg to the other as she looked out into the rain.
"Wanna start patrol early? We can finish up sooner and get out of this weather. Can't say I'm a fan of the rain, as wonderful as the company is."
Glancing up at him, she held up the thermos in her left hand, and asked "How about we just stay here for a little bit and have some hot chocolate? I made my grandmother's special recipe and it is perfect for days like today."
He looked puzzled at her suggestion. "Are you suggesting we skip patrol? Miss Professionalism shirking duty?"
"Honestly, Kitty, I don't think Hawk Moth will be trying to stir stuff up. I doubt his butterflies could even get to the potential akuma victims right now with the wind." She sat on the ledge under the covered section of roof and shook the thermos his way. "Besides, this is best shared with a friend."
Shaking his head like he still couldn't believe what she said, he tucked his baton away and sat beside her. "Special hot chocolate, huh?"
"Simply the best," she replied, pulling two small camp mugs from behind her. "Liquid happiness. Guaranteed to make you feel all cozy and chase away the dreary."
"Okay, you sold me," he sighed. His eyes turned tired and sad for a moment. "I could use a little happy."
Ladybug opened the thermos and poured some of the rich hot chocolate into the mugs. Steam curled upwards with the delightful scent of chocolate. Passing Chat one, she smiled as he took a long drink.
His eyes widened as the warm beverage crossed his taste buds. Quickly draining the mug, he looked surprised at the taste.
"That may be the best thing I've ever had. What makes it so good?"
She laughed at his wondrous expression. It was just too adorable for words. Not that she'd tell him that.
"Family secret." Taking his mug, she poured a little more into it, handing it back before taking a sip of her own. "My grandfather, who will outright tell you that's why he married my grandmother, still doesn't know after 40 years."
Chat Noir immediately started thinking about how to best secure a supply of this liquid happiness for the rest of his life. While they sat close together, warmed by the hot chocolate and conversation, he tried to weigh his options.
Could he somehow convince her to give up the secret? Or would he just have to convince her to marry him someday? Because this feeling, this warmth and companionship and coziness was something he couldn't stand to be without.
Professor!Jorah keeping you after class for tutoring
You know me, I can never choose one but here's the first Haha
A Sweet Surprise
Warnings: noncon and somnophilia undertones, implied use of drugs, involvements of alcohol, plus sexy blue eyes that like to stare. Story is dark so please heed the warnings.
Your comments are welcomed, as always. And I hope you enjoy! 💛
p.s. It got longer than expected haha and Vision’s human name is Victor Shade.
Click. Clack. Click. Clack.
Your fingers fumble with the hem of your skirt as your eyes follow the motions of the metallic orbs atop Mr. Shade’s desk. Back and forth, they swing, and the sound they make, along with the clinking of the keyboard, only adds to the tension that slowly builds within rather than calm you down, which you assumed it should be doing.
Six months have passed by in a blur, consisting of endless data entries and the exchange of emails and phone calls from the company’s business partners. And now, here you sit in front of your boss, after working hours, waiting for his feedback on the performance evaluation they’ve conducted on you.
You know to yourself that you’ve done all they’ve asked. You believe yourself to be a diligent employee, an obedient one. Always grateful for the opportunity they have given you despite having no experience in the administrative field and never being one to complain of the workload dropped on your shoulders.
After almost a year of slaving yourself away in retail, you desperately needed a new job and out of all the companies you applied for, Crimson Travel Insurance was the one who responded.
You were slightly filled with worry as you discussed your bare-bones resume during the interview, but Mr. Shade seemed impressed with your enthusiasm to learn the ins and outs of the company. The smile on his face never left your sight, and you hoped it was a sign that they would take you in regardless of your lack.
You were employed within two weeks. Adjusting to the new work environment was a stretch. You won’t be seeing your friends often like before but the pay was enough motivation for you to push on to your tasks, and soon after, the friendliness and helpfulness of your colleagues, especially Wanda, bled into you that you never wanted anything more.
Except right now.
You hope that your boss would acknowledge your efforts and hard work and that he would see you as an invaluable asset to his company. But the silence that continues to stretch between the two of you, only those stupid metal balls hitting each other and echoing in the vast office, makes you think otherwise.
Click. Clack. Click.
He says your name and you immediately sit up straight, eyes looking forward to face him before drifting down to the folder in his hand, deft fingers flipping through the sheets within.
“You’ve only been with us for half a year and I must admit that I was quite worried when I hired you.” He starts and you feel your heart pounding hard against your chest. “With your lack of experience and all.”
You swallow thickly. Unsure how to take his words. The threat of being unemployed once more lingers. He’s going to fire me.
“But even with your dearth, you have completely exceeded my expectations.”
You gape at him. “Sir?” The words seem to fumble in your mouth but you take a slow breath before adding, “what do you mean?”
“If the projected numbers are right, it says here that our sales have increased by twenty percent in a span of four months.” There’s amusement evident on his lips as he stands from his seat, rounding the sleek desk before leaning against the edge, and looking down at you. “That’s four times more than what we had last year.”
The folder in his hands now rests on your lap and you dare to look down, scanning the graphs and charts that fill the sheets. He’s not lying. You blink in surprise before looking up at him once more.
“Mr. Laufeyson has even called me personally to thank you for assisting them when they had questions about our packages.” He continues to explain. “Every email and call answered, and your diligence has helped them sell more of our product along with theirs.”
“I—” You fluster, looking back at the papers on your lap. “I was simply doing my job, sir.” You look up and then flinch when he’s suddenly at your side, hand resting on the back of your seat, leaning in closer.
“Exactly! You were doing your job; frankly, it has done wonders for the company.” There’s a grin on his lips and you slightly tense up when you feel his hand rest on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze before he parts and walks back behind his desk. “And because of that, I’ve decided to give you a promotion.”
“A—a promotion?” You blink. Surprised.
“Senior Operations Coordinator.”
A promotion? You can’t believe it. You smile as his words slowly sink in, that your hard work has been recognized and has finally paid off. But just as soon as your joy surfaced, it dies down just as fast as the thought of Wanda comes to your head.
She’s been in the company for two years running, maybe even more, and you’ve heard nothing come out of her mouth than wanting the senior position. She’s kind, although strict, but she was patient enough to teach you everything you know. And you can’t imagine how heartbroken she would be once she finds out she’ll be working for you.
Still, you feel thankful though you can’t help but ask, “But what about Wanda, sir?”
There’s a questioning look in his eyes when he faces you. “ What about Ms. Maximoff?”
“Well—” You’re flustered once again, casting your eyes down to your hands to avoid the strength of his gaze. “She’s been here longer than I have and she’s probably more qualified to take on the role.” You try to reason. You’re new and the last thing you want is to have enemies.
“If she wanted to be promoted, she should have worked harder.” Annoyance is evident in your boss’ voice. “But the feedback I’ve got in her evaluation wasn’t that savory and I don’t want slackers within my ranks.”
You’re unsure if he’s supposed to disclose such information but you think better of yourself and decide to remain silent.
“Do you not want what I offer?” He asks, his voice softer this time that you dare chance a peek at him.
“It is a very generous offer, sir.” You try to smile. “But—”
“But why won’t you take it? Do you not believe in your capabilities?”
“I do.” You try to argue. “But—”
He doesn’t let you finish, flinching when he claps his hands once in finality, the grin back on his face. “Then it’s settled. Starting next week, we shall make the proper arrangements and announce the good news to everyone.” He then bends down behind his desk, hearing a cabinet open then close, your eyes widening in surprise when he holds up a bottle of champagne. “We should celebrate!”
“Oh, I’m not much of a drinker.” You try to object but he’s already popped off the cork, picking up a flute from the shelf behind him and filling it halfway. He holds it out to you but you hesitate to take it. “I really can’t, sir. We’re still in the office.”
“Which is closed.” He rebuttals, setting the glass in front of you on his desk and turning back to the shelf to fill a tumbler with amber liquid. “It’s just you and me left in the building. And I promise not to tell.” You want to cringe at the wink sends your way but keep your face neutral as you watch him walk back to you.
The smile on his face then fades when he looks at you and then at the untouched champagne glass.
“Sir, I really can’t—”
“You’d deny your boss his request?” Your back stiffens at the sharpness of his tone, blue eyes piercing you and you grab the glass quickly for fear of angering him further. You stare at the bubbly liquid from the rim if only to avoid facing your boss. “Good girl.” You hear his smirk, a small frown forming on your lips at the unexpected pet name.
“Cheers.” He says, clinking his own glass with yours but you can’t find it in you to break company rules.
Under any circumstances, employees must not be under the influence of any form of an intoxicant (alcohol, drugs, etc.) while inside company premises.
“Drink.” You visibly flinch at the authority in his voice and immediately lift the glass to your lips, taking a small sip. But your eyes grow wide when you feel him tip the base of the glass higher, almost choking on the drink as he forces you to consume all of it.
You pull the glass away and take a deep breath when you finish, placing the glass back on the table with a loud thud. Your cheeks flush and you frown when you look up at Mr. Shade, feeling sheepish when you see him smirking down at you, unseemingly bothered at his display of dominance.
“Another.”
You shake your head in protest but he’s already refilling the glass, adding more of the champagne this time and taking the stem, holding it out to you. You stare at the glass and take it with reluctance. As much as his insistence makes you feel awkward, you don’t want to find yourself on his bad side after he’s just given you such a generous offer.
“Another.” He echoes, his words softer this time.
You do as he bids, closing your eyes before downing the champagne in one go to avoid him from repeating his crass actions. But your head suddenly spins and you almost miss the table when you try to put the glass down.
“Whoa. Easy there, lightweight.” He chuckles, taking the glass from your hold before lifting your hand to press against your temple, closing your eyes once more, you lean against your seat as you try to recenter yourself. “Maybe another was a bad idea.” But you hear no remorse in his words, only amusement.
“Thank you again, Mr. Shade.” You say as you blink, hands pressing down on the arms of the chair as you try to push yourself up. “But I think I should be going.” You’re seemingly out of breath when you speak, your head continuously swimming as you try to take a step toward the door.
“Please, call me Vision.” You hear Mr. Shade speak, only making out the first words but the rest sound muffled. You reach up once more to clutch the side of your head, your steps going wobbly each time you force a foot forward. You can’t be drunk with just two glasses. You’ve had champagne before and you’ve been having sips of hard liquor since you were sixteen.
Champagne can’t be strong right? You try to think but your brain gets muddled, leaving you with blank thoughts. You’re confused, questions linger to the unease that washes over you. You startle when you feel his hand wrap around yours, looking up at him with hooded eyes but saying nothing as you allow him to guide you on your way out.
You must have looked pathetic from the clumsiness he’s witnessed from you.
As you take another step, your knees buckle and you don’t even get the chance to react as you await for your body to hit the ground. But the floor never meets you as you feel arms catching you underneath, a soft whine escaping your lips when you’re unexpectedly lifted from your feet.
You feel something soft underneath you and your breath hitches from Mr. Shade’s sudden closeness. You want to move away but your body feels so heavy that you don’t even think you could lift a finger even if you tried.
“Stay still.” He whispers against your ear and you frown when you feel his fingers ghost against your arm, the hair of your body standing from his actions.
“That’s it. Good girl. Let me take care of you,” The sound of his voice so close makes your spine shiver, whimpering once more when you feel his other hand caress your thigh, your skirt hiking up to your waist and you try to move your hand to push him away, struggling to cling on the last strand of your consciousness, but your body won’t cooperate.
The last thing you feel is his fingers dancing along the inseam of your panties, his hand cupping your sex, pressing down on your heat before you’re completely consumed by darkness.
📚 share a snippet where the character is being academic/is in an academic setting/is showing off their knowledge
💅 share a snippet showing a character embracing their lgbtqness
Knowing Your Beans my beloved, I miss you, why can you not just write yourself?
"Neptune." Weiss addressed her friend with a sly smile, "Please, I know you. If you didn't come in here today, you would have poured over those crumby lecture notes." She said, swatting up her stylus and dropping it neatly into its white satchel.
Gaining a scoff from Neptune, the man rolled his eyes with a satisfied nod. "Y'know what sucks is that you're definitely right. I just love Political Science so much." Stowing away his notebook and pen before pressing himself to stand. "And that's not even sarcasm. I love writing pages of notes on why the election method is stupid."
With a tired huff, Weiss drew to her feet. Stretching slightly as she nodded along, "That sounds about right. Professor Goodwitch at least makes it a little interesting." Though Weiss was quickly rebuked by Neptune with a huffing laugh. "Oh please," He said, "Glynda just adds those videos so she can mark her upper year's work while she's here." Leaning down and picking up Weiss' bag for her, handing it to her with a smile as she finished her stretch.
And Belts and whatevers because cinwin smut woohoo
The heat of Cinder’s mouth bellowed like a furnace primed with coal into her, paired with the ferocious and compacting strength of her hands upon her waist, Winter only felt herself grow further in need.
Likewise, the allure of Winter’s taste filled Cinder’s head. Like a fruit which refused to end in richness, as if she was draining some sort of water skin with each enrapture laps of tongues. A low chortle dragging itself through her throat and into Winter’s as the Schnee’s far frostier hand found readied pinching purpose across the exposed nape of her behind, daring the brief frill of her underwear beneath it.
A staunch breath spat from Winter further with t The heat of Cinder’s mouth bellowed like a furnace primed with coal into her, paired with the ferocious and compacting strength of her hands upon her waist, Winter only felt herself grow further in need.
“Before you keep saying that… Bed.” Cinder dictated with a nod, feeling almost like a question she forgot to add pronunciation to.
