A/N: I DID IT! I actually wrote a drabble again, and I loved writing it :) First writing I’m posting here since 6(!) years. Still dusting off my writings and English, so please bare with me.
It’s inspired by these amazingly sweet foxes (more drabbles to come from these). Enjoy!
Pairings: Taichi x Sora / Taiora
Genre: General/Humor (little suggested romance)
Rating: K(+)
Words: 645
Summary: On a drizzly Sunday Taichi and Sora decide to stay at home. Sora keeping up with the household and Taichi is very much invested in a... documentary?
It was one of those simple Sundays with no special obligations and a lot of rain, so Taichi and Sora had decided to spend the day in Taichi’s apartment. Sora, not someone who could easily sit still and do completely nothing, found herself some things to do. She had already cleaned the kitchen, cleared out his fridge, scolded Taichi for not clearing out all of the expired food, made them some lunch, had a nice phone call with Mimi in between and was now folding his laundry.
Taichi on the other hand had tried to convince Sora to join him on the bed to watch a movie, take a nap together or simply cuddle and make out. He also suggested to help her by clearing out his fridge while she cleaned the kitchen. She replied it wasn’t necessary, but moments later she was calling him lazy, messy, irresponsible and unhealthy. He told her he had offered her help which she didn’t take. Without actually seeing it, he knew she was rolling her eyes. She sighed and muttered something to herself before finishing her cleanings. Sora’s mom-like nature made him laugh, finding it both annoying and adorable at the same time.
Sora walked in the room with a basket full of fresh washed laundry under her arm. He had gestured her to leave the unfolded laundry be, especially after her acting like his mom the whole day, but she felt responsible. She knew that if she didn’t fold it today, she had to fold it someday next week. Sometimes she asked herself why on earth, out of all friends, she had fallen in love with her extremely messy and stupid best friend. But here they were, she folding his laundry and he… What was he doing anyway?
By the end of their lunch he had grabbed his laptop to watch a documentary. He had asked her to watch it together, but she had declined, not being in the mood for a documentary. Normally he would watch an action packed movie or some anime, however today he had settled for a documentary. She didn’t think much of it earlier today, but she watched him and he seemed invested. He sat on his bed with legs crossed and his laptop in front of him. His upperbody a bit lowered. Taichi had put in earphones, so Sora couldn’t hear what the documentary was about.
Her curiosity took over as she walked up to him while folding a piece of laundry. She stopped across from him, the laptop in front of him and the laundry in her hands the only things between them. She knew he saw her, but his eyes were still glued to the screen. She rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time that day.
“You wanted to ask something Sor? I’m kinda in the middle of something,” Taichi said, his eyes shortly leaving the screen before returning.
“I can see that,” she smiled. “Are you still watching the same documentary?”
Taichi nodded his head enthusiastic. He looked like a little kid who was seeing something he very much liked. “It’s a part of a five-episode mini-series.”
She placed the folded piece of laundry on his bed and folded her arms. She knew how he could be with things he was really enthusiastic about. “So what will I be learning everything about tomorrow,” Sora countered sarcastically raising one eyebrow as she tried to peek around the corner of Tachi’s laptop.
“The history of glass-blowing in Venice.”
She shot him a surprised look before starting to chuckle. He had never lost that sweet, childlike innocence which she envied and loved so much. She took a seat next to him, placed a peck on his cheek, then pulled out one of the earphones to place it in her own ear. The laundry could wait. He gave her his signature grin before returning to the mini-series.
Sora couldn’t wait to hear everything about the history of glass-blowing in Venice from Taichi tomorrow.
YESS PLS I STILL HAVE A LIST OF PROMPTS IVE BEEN IMAGINING BUT CANT WRITE DOWN MYSELF
i'm excited for all of them!! sleep hasn't been kind but ooooo the one you sent in, i'm trying not to overthink it :p i absolutely love your reqs, thank you love <333
I wrote an HP AU drabble because I like to hurt. And peer pressure.
~
The Headmaster stood in front of the group of quivering first years on the Quidditch pitch. There was a wet, hiccupy cry coming from one of the Hufflepuff girls, and one Ravenclaw boy kept trying to run off towards the woods, but was held back by the wrist by one of his friends. “Stay behind me,” the Headmaster said. “I won't let anyone hurt you.”
“I don't think that is something you can promise, Skywalker.” The voice was young, far too young for the threatening depth that vibrated through it, but its owner was swathed in dark robes and covered with a mask. His wand arm was outstretched, and his sleeve had slid down to his elbow, revealing the fresh mark on his forearm.
“Point that elsewhere, Ben,” Headmaster Skywalker said. “You do not want to face me. And I do not want to hurt you.”
“Coward!” The wizard who was once Ben Solo shook as he screamed. “I can see the terror in your eyes. You fear my power, as you always have!”
“It is not terror,” Headmaster Skywalker said. “The only thing I fear is you making a choice that you cannot come back from.”
“Then you lack even more sense than I thought. The choice has already been made, Uncle.”
The others came from all directions. They seemed to spawn from the darkness, similarly clothed in all black, similarly donning cruel masks that did nothing to hide the malevolent smiles they held as they encroached upon their prey. So many of them, and there was only so much one wizard could do, even a great one, when greatly outnumbered and already bleeding from a broken heart.
Cowboy Tom being a bad influence on Cowboy Clarice.
"T-those are the J-Judges cattle." She stammered in the dark.
"Wassamatter? Never done a little cow tipping." Tom strikes a match to light the cigarette between this bared teeth. "T-hey'll see that!" The bison rider slapped her hand over his and put out the flame. "Where's your sense of adventure?" Tom takes the unlit cigarette out and places it in his pocket. "Do you not know how to have fun?""I-I do!" Clarice looks a bit indignant. "I-I said if w-we sat a-around the campf-fire. W-we could tell s-stories or s-sing s-songs..."Tom waves a hand in front of her cutting her off while shaking his head. He starts to climb over the fence."D-don't hurt them." Clarice lumbers over the fence and then bumps into Tom as he glares at the strange fence that stretches on for awhile. It wasn't a normal pin either. He was fencing off his land. "Is this what's to become of the open range?" Tom squints at the fence and Clarice's gaze follows. "Tell ya what, we're not cow tipping tonight." Tom says as Clarice perks up. "I'm going to need your help with the fence though. I'm sure the cows will thank us for this later."Tom starts to pry on the twisted metal wire and Clarice gazes back at the skinny cattle, then back at Tom. She walks over and pulls a whole post from the ground.Tom gives her a wide grin and she gives him an uncertain smile back. Throughout the night they dismantle the fence.
I wrote a thing. I get bored and horny so I just write drabbles. The name Skye has no particular meaning, It's a name I use whenever writing anything with Dean and an OC. (It's also the name of the main character of my story, in which you can read here -- shamelessly plugging my own shit) It's smutty. Feedback's cool.
Good girl…Mmhm, Take this cock like the little whore you are..
Skye ate up every single word that Dean spoke. She absolutely adored his dirty talk. It’s what made the sex so great.
Dean gripped at his woman’s hips, digging his finger nails into her soft and damp flesh, pushing himself as far as he could into her. He grunted, leaning down to nibble on her neck.
Skye let out a loud, whorish moan, dipping her head, resting it on the bed. She was damn near spent at this point. They had been going for hours. The long night began after Dean threw her into their hotel room, fuming with jealousy over the fact that Skye and his team mate and best friend, Seth Rollins has been caught making out in a supply closet at the Smackdown! Event.
Not that it honestly bothered Dean, honestly. He knew what Skye liked, and Seth didn’t have it for her. In fact, The actual thought of Skye and Seth having sex turned him on. He wouldn’t let Skye know that, though. So, He played the part of an angry boyfriend, snapping at her and taking her to have some long and loud angry sex.
Dean just decided to take out his frustrations of the fact he lost to a returning Big Show on Smackdown! out on Skye’s tight cunt. And she was perfectly fine with that. She did whatever he said, however he wanted it. Like the good little girl she was.
“Did I say you could fucking let your head down?” He growled through gritted teeth, grabbing on each pigtail and tugging her head up. Skye yelped, as Dean started to pound mercilessly into her, Her small body only being held up by her hair.
He couldn’t help but to chuckle slightly. “Goodness, You’re such a fucking slut.” He said, continuing to pound into her. Fuck she felt amazing around his thick cock. “Good little slut, you are…Mmm…”
Skye closed her eyes, uncontrollable loud moans leaving her lips. He was just so good, everything he did was just so good. Truly a blessed man.
(I'm not really celebrating it, but I will probably be reblogging valentines and writing a few schmoopy drabbles if I get some prompts c: It's too good an excuse not to indulge myself. So feel free to throw prompt words my way!)
